


Whirlpool

by KeitaLee



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Eventual Romance, Kink Meme, M/M, Magic Made Them Do It, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Sexual Tension, Side Quests, Slow Burn, now with new and improved naughty scene
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-03 03:10:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 120,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeitaLee/pseuds/KeitaLee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fantasy AU based on a kink meme prompt.  </p><p>The seaside town of Iwatobi houses the ancient Water Temple, dedicated the the everlasting Water Spirit. It chooses a priest, typically one with a love of water, and a knight, one with the power to keep the priest safe. Everyone is convinced that the priest will be Haruka and Rin his chosen knight, as they are the top of their class and seem like the most likely candidates.  However, when a priest is finally chosen during the annual ceremony, the only reason anyone knows about it is because Haruka is marked as the knight. </p><p>And Haruka suddenly remembers, with a very cold feeling, that Makoto is afraid of the water because he says it always feels like there's something in it wanting to drag him down...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Interlude

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt that inspired this can be found on the Free! Kink Meme, round three, page 8, under MakoHaru Water Priest and Knight. The prompt is a bit lengthy, so I don't want to put the whole thing here. But if you're curious, there you are! It's a really terrific prompt, and there are several other spectacular fills that are in progress (and will hopefully continue!). 
> 
> This is the same story as what is appearing on FFN under the same title (and same penname).

The Water Spirit, an ageless and nameless entity, was notorious for many things. Among the small town of Iwatobi, it was known especially for, despite a fickle nature, intense fixations. These fixations manifested themselves as chosen acolytes, the closest attendants to the capricious spirit. It wasn't to say that it was a bad thing; the Water Spirit, when properly motivated, could be a gracious and pleasant host. However, when the spirit was angry or when its whims were questioned, the residents of the town could expect consequences.

It had been nearly seventeen years since a previous priest had been chosen by the spirit, and the town's chatter was starting to take a worried turn. To go for this long without a priest was, well, odd. Without someone to convene with the Water Spirit, someone to appease and appeal to its greater nature, the water conditions of the town were not as good as they could have been – let alone the conditions of the rest of the world. Iwatobi was by no means isolated; many traveled through to visit the Water Temple, a great structure that had withstood the test of time and the elements. Few spoke favorably of the weather and the water levels of other cities, and that was worrisome in itself.

The elders gossiped amongst themselves, toying with the idea that the Water Spirit wasn't pleased with the youngsters it had to choose from. Others complained that the spirit was merely biding its time, enjoying the solitude that being without a chosen companion offered. Others still wondered if it had something to do with the fact that the crop of students at the academy were nearing the completion of their training, and once finished, they would need some kind of focus for the remainder of their academic careers in order to improve further.

A quieter rumor, but nonetheless present, was that the Water Spirit was still mourning the loss of the previous priest. It had been proposed that they had had a deeper bond than the typical priest and spirit. The priest, a young woman with glimmering green eyes, had been taken from their town prematurely by an attack from above; the large, winged creatures that roamed the skies had snapped her up before either her knight or the Water Spirit could intervene.

Iwatobi had endured storms for weeks afterwards. The citizens had mourned the loss of their priest, but eventually the skies had cleared to allow bleak rays of sun to shine through. The Water Spirit, desolate as it was, would not leave them to suffer for long. It depended on them as much as they depended on it.

One thing was clear. The Water Spirit had chosen someone already, as it always did. The only question was when the choice would be revealed.

* * *

 

Nanase Haruka was the first name that came to mind. His affinity for water magic and his love of the water had the townsfolk convinced that he was the one, he was the one, and the troubles Iwatobi had been having with infrequent rains and choppy seas and poor fishing conditions would vanish. This year; it had to be.

Haruka himself was no stranger to these rumors. However, as he sat amongst friends, he was silently appreciative that no one brought the topic up. Privately, he would admit that he was tired of hearing about it. In his classes, though, he made no effort not to excel. The water called to him, and he responded in the only way he knew how.

"Haru-chan, would you mind passing me that box?" Tachibana Makoto smiled across the table, fingers working quickly to mend a hole in either Ren or Ran's traditional garb. The robes all looked the same to him. "This thread is the wrong color."

Haruka eyed the box for a moment before sliding it. "Don't call me that."

Makoto only smiled down at his needle and threaded it carefully. He rolled the thread between his fingers before beginning, and it didn't take long to close the hole. It wasn't a seamless fix by any means, but it was enough. It was too close to the ceremony to have the children fitted for new robes. Fortunately Ren and Ran had yet to outgrow the ceremonial dress, but if they grew as tall as Makoto, Haruka wasn't sure how much longer that would be true.

"There we go," Makoto said finally, shaking out the garment. It was wrinkled; after a year of being kept in a storage box in some closet, it was once again time to don them. "Haru-chan, have you washed yours yet? I would hate for you to be underdressed this year."

He realized, as usual, that he had been staring. "Oh. No. I haven't."

Makoto shook his head, laughing good-naturedly. "You really should take care of that, Haru-chan. You have less time than my family does."

Haruka wrinkled his nose. Every year, the students of the academy traveled to the Water Temple before their civilian counterparts, and this year would be no exception. It was an even more important year because of how long it had been since the last priest had died. They were running out of ceremonies to appease the Water Spirit, and hopefully this year would be the one. Everyone was starting to worry so much; it was almost irritating.

He was tired, too, of hearing about how it was bound to be this year that he was chosen, this year was the one, it was definitely going to happen this year. As much as he loved the water, Haruka found himself wishing sometimes that it would hurry up and make up its mind.

"I will," he promised, more to appease Makoto than anything else. Haruka kept his eyes trained on the needle and thread as his friend tested the stitches.

Too gentle – and too terrified of the water – for his own good, Makoto had been excluded from academy training into which most children were funneled. This suited him much better; surrounded by the shelves of books, a box of binding elements and threads on the table and something simmering in the kitchen, Makoto looked at ease. As they had gotten older, Makoto had developed some ability to hide his fear of the open water, but Haruka knew better. He would never really forget the way his friend had cowered behind him, hand caught between clammy palms, Makoto shaking like a leaf.

Makoto made a contemplative noise. The memory was stark contrast to the way he was now, all smiles and support. "Do you want to stay for dinner? Ren and Ran should be home soon."

"Yes," he answered without thinking. His house, set up a bit farther on the hill, would be lonely and cold. He didn't want to be left alone with his thoughts for the few days before the ceremony. Lounging in the bathtub wasn't enough to keep the slightly resentful thoughts away, that the water was tormenting him by being ever-present but so distant at the same time. Submerged in water, Haru felt most at home, but even he couldn't imagine staying suspended in a constant state of waiting for a few more years.

Besides, the way that Makoto smiled back at him was enough of an incentive by itself.

* * *

 

"Press your palms together," their teacher, Amakata Miho, stood at the front of the classroom with her hands clasped in front of her body. "Now breathe in deeply… Hold it – yes, just like that." Her voice and expression serene, she looked as at home in the school as the rest of the class felt. This was where they belonged, training their minds and their bodies for the opportunity to serve the Water Spirit. "Now breathe out. Good… Open your eyes, everyone!"

The class was seated, legs crossed and palms clasped as instructed. Slowly students began to open their eyes, and Haruka immediately swept the room with his gaze. With a slight frown, he located his usual sparring partner, a one Matsuoka Rin. The redhead's eyes were still closed, though a lazy grin curled his mouth at the corners.

"Don't think we didn't all sense you coming in late, Matsuoka-kun," their teacher scolded, hands on her hips. "You know, as the esteemed Miyamoto-san once said, 'A delayed game is eventually –'"

Rin rolled his neck, teeth flashing. Haruka couldn't help wondering, as he found himself occasionally, if his friend had ever cut his tongue on those teeth. "Okay, okay, I get it! I missed the ferry, though, so I had to swim."

Miho shook her head. "For the third time this week, Matsuoka-kun?" Despite the scolding, she smiled; it was fairly common knowledge that Rin preferred to push himself to the limit in any way he could. Swimming the channel from the town's edge to school was, as Rin put it, "a good warm-up." The Water Spirit would certainly have approved, in Haruka's opinion.

The other boy caught his gaze and grinned again. "'Sides, it's not like I missed anything important."

"Matsuoka-kun, I would like it if you at least pretended to enjoy morning prayers," Miho said, slightly indignant. "It is beneficial to everyone! 'To train our minds and bodies in unison…'" She trailed off. "Wait, no, I don't think that's been said before." She broke off into light laughter. A few of the other students began to stretch when she didn't immediately continue.

Haruka got to his feet, stretching his arms first out to his sides and then over his head. His whole body felt alive from meditation and from the magic inundating their school; with the few short days until the ceremony, he couldn't help the extra burst of energy, the spring in his step, the excitement that didn't usually come before morning lessons.

Ryuugazaki Rei, second in physical prowess only to Rin, pushed his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose. "Amakata-sensei, can we begin our lesson?" His serious expression belied his tendency to be quite flustered, though most of the class was wearing similar expressions.

It was that point in the year, after all.

Haru was aware that his classmates thought highly of him because of his skills with water magics, but he was also aware that they thought him too water-obsessed to pay attention to them in turn. It was a misconception he had never bothered to remedy. After all, he cared very little what the others thought of him as long as the Water Spirit was pleased. For the most part, Haru felt that it was; his bond with the water was proof enough of that. Regardless, Haruka knew the feel of each person's magic in turn, and he knew their personalities perhaps better than they thought he did.

"Right!" Miho clapped her hands, canting her head slightly to the side. "Let's begin! I'm sure everyone is ready to begin their morning drills?"

A chorus of sleepy assent went through the room as the other students assembled.

They began their morning drills as usual, shaping the magic that leapt eagerly between their fingertips. Haruka found the water more responsive than usual; it took less effort to mold his magic to his will than it had only a few days previously.

He was not blind to Rin's determined glance as they stood, shoulders nearly brushing, to practice their magic in tandem. Rin had always been the more competitive between them, and Haru had found it irritating at first – did it really matter who was better as long as they pleased the spirit? – but over the years, it had become a fuel that drove them both to improve. The redhead would never have his affinity for water, but it was his drive that had advanced his magic so far. Haruka had never felt as compelled to improve himself physically; while he did occasionally swim with Rin to or from their classes, he preferred to keep his studies confined to the classroom.

Outside of school, there really was a lot of water for him to pay his attention and respects to, and that was what Haruka lived for.

As he and Rin turned, again in unison, to pit their magic against each other, he saw the spark light in the other's eyes. If they were chosen, as the town expected they would be, this would be their lives. Maintaining peak physical and mental condition, honing their magic, and working as a team. Priest and Knight, joined in magic and in company until the Water Spirit deemed them unworthy.

A small smile played over Haruka's mouth at the thought. Their friends would find it hilarious, that the two most competitive magic-users would be stuck together to annoy each other forever and ever.

His magic rose up like a wave, and they put distance between themselves and the other students to spar; Rin's magic, while not as powerful, was still fierce. There was raw, untamed force behind it that Haru had learned to grapple with over the years. He still wondered where it came from, settling on the redhead's powerful drive to succeed and surpass.

He felt the swell of Rei's magic as well, and he took careful note of how advanced the other was. If he was to be the Priest, he would be responsible for all the acolytes living and training in the school and temple. If Rin wasn't chosen to be his knight, he thought, Rei would be a good second choice; his magic wasn't that impressive, but the way he handled weapons was masterful. Apparently he had studied the theory of sword fighting or something ridiculous – but whatever worked.

The slight break in his concentration was all that Rin needed; magic crashed down over his head, and Haru whipped around, irritated.

"What?" Rin asked, tossing his head aggressively. He was smiling fiercely. "You'd better give me your full attention, Haru-chan."

Haruka set his mouth into a thin line. "Fine."

It was much easier to forget his worries about the ceremony when Rin was taunting him, and it was that way that they passed time until classes halted for lunch.

* * *

 

"So? Whaddaya think?" Rin asked, chewing thoughtfully. "Might be cool."

Rei shook his head, brows drawn. "No. Definitely not. It wouldn't be beautiful at all."

The redhead barked out a laugh, clapping Rei on the back. The other teen fixed his glasses with another frown. "Don't be such a stiff!"

Haruka ate his lunch in silence, picking determinedly at a single grain of rice.

"Rin! Don't tell me you started eating without us!" Matsuoka Gou, lunch in hand, trotted over to them. "I asked you to wait for me!"

Rin rolled neck to look at his younger sister. "Oops. Guess I forgot." He didn't sound apologetic at all. Gou sat down with a huff, jabbing him in the ribs. Rin's expression twisted as he involuntarily twitched. "Sorry, okay?"

Gou tucked her knees under her body and opened her lunch quickly. "Have you heard? Ama-chan was talking about what kind of transportation we're using for the ceremony! I think they're going to use some of the underclassmen's magic to fuel a ship!" Her voice was a notch higher, maybe to hide her irritation at her brother.

Across their small table, Rei leaned forward. His expression interested, he looked slightly relieved as well that Rin had dropped whatever subject they had been talked about. Haruka hadn't paid enough attention to listen. The bright flush that had risen in Rei's cheeks some time earlier had been enough to bet that it was something stupid and uncomfortable, though. "Transportation? You mean for the civilians?"

The girl sighed dramatically. "Well, of course. We do the same thing every year."

"Why don't they just use the ferry?" Haruka interjected with a frown. He finally managed to pick up the single grain of rice and brought it to his mouth. "They're wasting their time."

"They aren't!" Gou insisted. "There are too many people to fit on the ferry now. They'd have to take two trips to the temple, and we wouldn't be able to start in time!"

Haruka offered a short huff and didn't respond in favor of finishing his food. Makoto had stopped by on his way to civilian classes to make sure that Haruka had remembered to pack something, as he did most mornings. He wouldn't let the food go to waste, even if it wasn't mackerel.

"But our formation will be perfect, as always," Rei was saying, tone slightly lofty in his confidence. "We've practiced a thousand times."

Rin leaned across the table and used his free hand to ruffle Rei's hair despite the other's squawked protest. "Yeah, but you'd be the one to screw it up. Don't you remember last year?"

The flush rose up again in Rei's cheeks, and he swatted Rin's hand away. It took him a moment to smooth his hair and compose himself. "I – I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Oh – you don't?" Rin's mouth split into a wicked grin.

"N-no, no thanks! It's fine, really!"

"You're going to spill your lunch - !"

Haru sighed again through his nose and picked up another grain of rice.

* * *

 

"Haru-chan! Rin-chan!" Hazuki Nagisa waved at them from the top of the steps leading up from the beach, smile bright. Nagisa, a civilian by choice when his magical aptitude test had turned up less than stellar, had been in their class in the early years. When he had discontinued studying magic, he and Makoto had become closer, walking to and from school every day. Haruka would admit – again, only privately – that it would have been nice to walk to school with Makoto. As it was, his friend would only come as close as the top of the steps that led down to the shoreline.

Makoto stood next to the blond, smiling as well, though there was a certain unease in his gaze. They were awfully close to the ocean, after all. "Hey! Rei-chan, too! Are you busy?" Nagisa called.

 _Yes, I'm busy_ , was on the tip of his tongue. There was a pool to float in or a bath to take. Somewhere that he could float on his back through cool water, alone and in silence. The day had been so full of shouting and shoving, sparring with magic and with practice swords, and with their teachers' lecturing that he was itching for stillness.

They were at the bottom of the steps; Makoto's expectant expression drove him to speak. Anything to get away from the open water, away from the ocean, those eyes said. "No."

Rin's eyes slide sideways. He could practically feel the other's gaze. "I'm gonna walk Kou home. She's down with that other girl." Rin looked then up to Makoto and Nagisa and grinned, all teeth again. "I'll try to stop by later!"

"Then leave already," Haruka said, slightly harsher than he had intended. He started to scale the steps, then stopped. "See you tomorrow."

The redhead rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Make sure to come to my house after the ceremony, okay? Kou wants to get everyone together before the festival!" he called up the stairs.

"What?" Nagisa mock-gasped. "Is Gou-chan gonna test her scary cooking on us again?"

"Her cooking's better than yours!" Rin waved over his shoulder by means of reply. Gou and her friend were standing by the pier, apparently chatting. As soon as he had reached them, Rin rested his elbow on his sister's head; she scowled, slapping him with a notebook. Haru tore his eyes away when he realized that he had been staring, standing still on the steps. Rei scuttled up the stairs after Haruka, pushing his glasses up his nose again.

"How were classes?" Makoto asked conversationally as soon as they were close enough. "You look worn out."

Nagisa clung to Rei's arm, grinning up at him. "Rei-chan! I missed ya!"

Color rose in Rei's cheeks. It was a familiar conversation. Haru nearly rolled his eyes. "Nagisa-kun, I can't walk like this."

"Sure you can! C'mon, you're as strong as Rin-chan, right? Carry me to Haru-chan's house!" Nagisa cheered, nuzzling his cheek against Rei's arm.

Rei's expression hardened with determination for a moment before he took a few labored steps. His body was bent to accommodate the blond's weight on his arm, but even water magic couldn't offer him too much help. "Nagisa-kun! You're too heavy! Get off!" His cheeks flamed a bit brighter when Nagisa merely laughed, dragging his feet. "Nagisa-kun! This is too embarrassing!"

"Rei-chan!" Nagisa trilled. "If you can carry me, I promise it'll be beautiful!"

Rei sputtered something incoherent, and Haru turned his attention back to Makoto. The other teen was looking at the pair and hiding his mouth behind his hand, chuckling helplessly. His shoulders were still tense, but with his back to the ocean, maybe it wasn't so distressing.

After a long day, Haru couldn't help but smile as well. Somehow, the crazy antics of his friends was enough to distract him of the constant, niggling worry that something was going to go terribly wrong at the coming ceremony.

"School was fine," he said, finally answering.

Makoto nodded, still smiling. "That's good! We were let out early today. I think the teachers are trying to prepare something for the festival this weekend." They began to walk, leaving the sputtering Rei and cackling Nagisa a few steps behind. They would untangle eventually and catch up like they always did.

"Mm." It wasn't much of an answer, but it was something – enough for Makoto to continue, at least.

"They've started the decorations downtown. Do you want to see?" Makoto gestured to a side street. "It's pretty nice. Everything will be shut down, you know, like it always is. The shop won't be open, so I don't really think I'll know what to do with my time. I'll probably take Ren and Ran to the festival after, you know, or –"

"Makoto," Haruka said sharply, fixing his friend with a stare. "It's going to be fine."

Makoto's smile faltered only for a moment. He was twisting his fingers together, a sure sign that he was nervous. Perhaps Makoto could feel it, too; something about this year's ceremony for the Water Spirit just did not feel right. "What do you mean, Haru-chan? Of course it will be. The… The Water Spirit will finally choose someone this year; I'm sure of it."

It didn't sound at all confident coming from Makoto, but before he could press, Nagisa leapt onto the brunet with a wild laugh. "You can't catch me now! Mako-chan is base!"

"Nagisa-kun! That isn't fair!"

Haruka kept Makoto in his gaze for the remainder of their walk home, but the subject wasn't brought up again. No matter how normal the brunet acted around their friends, Haruka still saw the way his smile was strained and the way his gait was slightly awkward. When they had finally said goodbye to Rei and Nagisa later in the evening, the latter scampering off to his family to help close shop and the former to push himself into more training, Makoto had returned to normal for long enough that Haruka had forgotten the matter entirely.

He hadn't forgotten, however, the crawling feeling of unease along the back of his neck.

* * *

 

"But why?" Ren demanded, gazing up at Makoto with his mouth pinched down. "I want you to come with us! Not that Haru isn't good enough, but…"

Haruka stood with his hands clasped together in the sleeves of his traditional garb. "It's fine."

Ran stuck her tongue out at him. "I want Makoto to take us to the meeting spot!"

Makoto smiled gently, smoothing down his sister's hair. She had done it herself for the special day; the pigtails were slightly uneven. Makoto fixed the first one dutifully, then straightened her collar. "There. You look great."

The girl shuffled her feet, momentarily forgetting their quest in lieu of the compliment. "Thanks…"

"Come here, Ren," Makoto said briskly. "Yours is uneven, too."

When both children's outfits were in order, they stood side by side and looked up solemnly at their brother. The same ordeal had happened the year before, when the two children had enrolled in the magical academy. They were already a higher magical caliber than their older brother, and as such, they were part of the first day of prayer. The students of the academy gathered to begin the first day of the ceremony; they summoned the water spirit, started the process of activating its benevolence, and implored it to choose as its own a knight and a priest. This year would be no different, of course.

"I wish you could come," Ran said solemnly, ducking her head. "It isn't the same without you."

Makoto merely smiled, resting a hand on her head gently. "Don't be like that. We all have to do our parts," he said quietly, crouching to be at eye level with his sister. "You have a very important role to play this year. The Water Spirit needs you both. What will we do if it doesn't appear because two of the best mages aren't present?"

Ren's chest puffed up with pride at the compliment. "It won't happen because we will be there! Right?"

Ran nodded vigorously, seemingly inspired by the praise. "Y-yeah! We will be!"

Haruka stood slightly off to the side, unsure if he should intervene. A quick glance at Makoto told him that he didn't really need to. "You two need to get going. Come on; Haru-chan is going to take you to the meeting point, and after that…"

Ren and Ran shared a quick glance. "Of course. We'll do it!"

Haru felt his mouth curling. "It's time to go."

Makoto stood back, hands clasped. "Be safe," he said with a smile, though this one was tinged with slight worry. "And be good." Their father appeared from the doorway to the shop, a smudge of ink on his cheek. "Oh – tou-san, did you –?"

Their father smiled, the expression so similar to the eldest son's that it was almost disconcerting. "Of course! Be good, Ren, Ran." He looked to each of them in turn and then to Makoto. "Oh, and have you made sure your clothes are in order? I know you've been spending a lot of time fixing everything for us…"

Makoto's cheeks colored slightly. "I – well, I haven't; I'll take care of that…"

Tachibana smiled in Haruka's direction at the response. "You look good, Haru-kun! Hopefully you'll put all of our fears to rest this year."

Haruka ducked his head at the comment, nodding. "Hopefully," he echoed.

Makoto waved them off from the top of the steps leading down to the beach. He didn't dare come any farther; even from a short distance, Haruka could see the goose bumps that prickled along his arms and the slight tremble of his limbs. There was something about the water that made his best friend so uneasy, and he didn't push or question. It was bad enough that Makoto would be called to the ceremony the following day; Haru ushered the younger siblings into the group of academy students, offered his friend a short wave, and headed to his own class to make the short trip to the Water Temple.


	2. Ripples

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, every time I looked at the chapter title, all I could read was 'nipples.' One track mind?

The air was thick, heavy and tense and hard to breathe.

Whether that was due to his own nerves or the gathering storm clouds above their heads, Makoto couldn't be sure. His heart had leapt into his throat walking Haruka and his siblings down to the end of the steps, and he had watched from higher ground as they joined their respective classes. With their robes shimmering in all shades of the water, a range of greens, blues, and the occasional white or silver, they formed a small crowd. Almost all children were enrolled in the academy except those with disallowing circumstances.

Makoto had been one of those children. He had begged his parents not to make him attend the school out in the water, and they had reluctantly agreed without truly understanding his reasoning. He had been much happier in civilian school and performed much better, even if it meant leaving his friends behind. For some time, he had worried that they would forget about him, wrapped up as they were in magic and intrigue. Haruka had appeared outside his door one day, demanding to know where he had gone. Rin had been hot on his heels, demanding an answer to the same question. There had been no question of their friendship from that point on.

Even when Nagisa's magical aptitude test had turned a lower-than-average score, he had remained his ever-cheerful self. He and Makoto had started taking the trek up the hill to school together, chatting aimlessly about their much more normal civilian lives.

Once, the blond had tried to teach Makoto a simple spell. He was the only child in his age group that hadn't attended the magic academy, though he and Nagisa certainly weren't the only ones who now attended the civilian school. Many other children left the magic academy as they got older; the graduating class would be only the best of the best. That one attempt at a spell, however, was all Makoto needed to confirm his suspicions that he was terrible at magic and that he and water would never mix. A basic spell designed to pull the water from the air into a small sphere had backfired, and he had soaked his head and shoulders with a sudden, cold rain. Nagisa had laughed for weeks, telling everyone he could find about Makoto's uncomfortably sodden afternoon. His hair, short as it was, had taken forever to dry.

Fortunately, his family was not involved in the fishing that went on during much of the early hours of the morning, and they were not involved in dealing with the water more than the average townsperson. The Tachibana family ran a bookkeeping shop, shelves stocked with the newest, rarest, or most informative volumes of text as well as writing instruments and materials. His mother hand pressed stationary that they sometimes sold for special occasions; once, she had even acted as a scribe for a man who wasn't confident in his own calligraphy. Makoto felt very comfortable in the shop, surrounded by books, and his family was very receptive to his helping run business when they were busy.

He knew they had to worry, though, that he didn't show any overt interest in magic like the rest of his classmates. An aptitude test was administered when academy students matured from magicians to mages, and most students with magic levels that were not high enough chose not to continue. The life of a priest and knight was not one that everyone wanted to pursue. Makoto had entertained thoughts of trying to become a knight at one point, romanticizing the position to the point of ridiculousness, but the thought of traveling over water every single day, nothing between his skin and the waves aside from his shoes, well, that was too much.

So he and Nagisa made the most of their classes and lived vicariously through their mage friends.

It was how Makoto found himself overlooking the beach, watching Haruka walk his siblings to the other students. They were grouped loosely by year, and when everyone was present, they stepped out onto the water. The waves undulated under their feet, but even the smallest child didn't falter.

Within minutes, the entire group was walking out towards the temple, a towering structure behind the academy. Set a ways out into the water, its spires dripped constantly with water and seaweed as it sunk below the waves during high tide and peeked above them during low. Makoto wasn't sure what it was made of, but the structure itself was pretty, sea foam green, and it glistened in the dawn and dusk as light flickered over the constantly-wet turrets. He watched his siblings walk across the water with unhampered worry, as he always did. Not a single student missed a step, and he wondered briefly what it felt like, to walk across the water as though it were solid land. The students appeared to be a part of the ocean itself, their ceremonial robes billowing in a salty breeze.

He heard Nagisa's footsteps bounding down the street; the other's expression was bright when he turned to look. "Mako-chan! Good morning!"

Makoto tore his eyes away from the ocean, unable to shake the sense of dread it had filled him with. He rubbed one arm idly, smiling back at the blond. "Good morning. I just came to see off Haru-chan and my brother and sister…"

The other teen peered out at the ocean, shielding his eyes with one hand. "Oh! They've left already?" He sounded slightly disappointed. "I wanted to see them off, too! I think it's so cool, the way they all walk out over water! I never get to do that anymore."

Makoto followed the other's gaze, squinting against the light of the rising sun. The academy class had moved farther out along the ocean, parting seamlessly around their suspended school and filing past it. Once on the other side, they would combine their magic into a great pyre that would open the temple doors. Haruka had told him once, rather bluntly, that he didn't like the feeling of so many other magics. It itched, he had said. Makoto looked for the first glimmers of that magic rising over the academy's roof, but when nothing immediately came, he turned back to Nagisa.

"Ah, yeah, it does look pretty cool," he agreed, unable to turn his back on the ocean. It felt like the waves lapping at the shore were trying to reach for him. "Did you want to get going?"

Breathing was harder again. He told himself sternly that he needed to stop being such a scaredy-cat; the water was not after his head or his hand or anything like that. Makoto tore his eyes away again, hoisting on a smile for his friend.

"Yeah! D'ya wanna see our shop? We put out fresh flowers! I made the big ones, the ones out front!" Nagisa didn't wait for his answer, merely started tugging him along by the wrist. "You need to cheer up, Mako-chan! Flowers make everyone happy, right?"

Makoto laughed sheepishly, a bit embarrassed that his friend had seen right through him. "R-right… Whatever you think is best, Nagisa-kun."

A sharp breeze played across the back of his neck, and he felt the fine hairs there standing up, an involuntary reaction to sudden chills. Makoto smiled even more determinedly, trying harder to put the perennial unease from his mind. As they walked, a light rain began to fall, sprinkling their heads and shoulders with droplets.

Nagisa laughed, but every drop that made contact with Makoto's skin felt like hot oil, and he swore he could hear sizzling.

* * *

By the time they had walked to the main shopping district, the light from the academy students' magic had lit up the sky like lazy curls of steam licking the horizon. A great rumbling shook the town as the doors of the Water Temple were successfully opened, and Makoto let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Nagisa shook his head but looked no less pleased before ushering Makoto into their shop. With the blond's sisters gone for the day to help in putting up decorations for the festival, the flower shop was nearly empty. A bouquet of roses was displayed on the counter, their petals a powder blue.

"Aren't they pretty?" Nagisa asked, slightly puffed up with pride. He plucked one from the display and twirled it between his fingers. There were no thorns, and the petals looked plush. "I made them myself!"

"They're very nice," he answered earnestly, reaching to touch one. The water in the vase lapped at the sides, and Makoto frowned at it – the rumbling had stopped, and the ground hadn't shaken _that_ hard. "Did you use magic?"

Nagisa's expression was enough. Makoto laughed, almost embarrassed. "Well, _duh_. Nee-chan made the ones out front – the ones that look like waves! And I did the big blue ones." He replaced the rose in its vase, and Makoto watched the water carefully. It didn't move for Nagisa, and he wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Anyway," Nagisa continued, "do you want to have lunch? I asked Roka-chan to leave me something _without_ peppers this time." The blond made a disgruntled expression and shook his head.

Makoto smiled. "Sure. That sounds good to me."

Nagisa led the way through the front of the shop, and they left down the alley, taking the winding streets some blocks away. They chatted aimlessly, and Makoto kept the column of hazy, iridescent magic in the corner of his eyes at all times. It was beautiful in its own right, but there was such an oppressive presence over the town. He couldn't wait for the ceremony to be over. Hopefully Haru and Rin would be chosen, as everyone expected, and they could move on with their lives.

The light rain still fell, but this time it was soothing against his bare skin, a cool drop that seemed to sink into him.

"Okaa-san?" Nagisa called as they stepped into the genkan to remove their shoes. "Are you still home?" The house was quiet; Nagisa only shrugged before he scampered into the kitchen. "Come on, Mako-chan!"

Makoto followed more slowly until his friend ushered him into a seat. "Ah – I'll sit! I'll sit."

There was still food on the table; a bowl of rice contained a spoon stuck at a jaunty angle, and there were steamed vegetables sprinkled with sauce. A fish, probably fresh-caught, as Nagisa's father preferred to spend his time grappling with the sea instead of cooped up in a flower shop, was half-eaten on another plate. It was extra money for the family if he caught excess, though Makoto was secretly glad that his father didn't practice the same thing.

"Here!" Nagisa cheered, shoving a plate at him. As soon as he had accepted it, the blond scooped a dollop of rice for him and handed him a pair of chopsticks. "Oh, I almost forgot! Did you finish binding those journals for Haru-chan and Rin-chan?"

It was no secret that they had both fashioned gifts of sorts to give their friends when they were finally chosen as the Water Spirit's favorites. Makoto picked at a few vegetables slowly, head bowed to try to hide his slightly awkward expression.

"Well?" the other teen pressed, leaning over the table. "Come _on_ , Mako-chan!"

"I haven't," he said finally, raising his head a bit. "Ren's robes needed to be fixed, and I couldn't finish Haru's… I'm sure I'll manage it by tomorrow!" He smiled, feeling almost shy. "I don't know if Rin will like it."

Nagisa chewed thoughtfully on a piece of fish, looking not unlike he wished it were something else – probably something sweeter, if Makoto knew the blond half as well as he thought he did. "I'm sure he will! Nobody ever gives Rin-chan presents, you know."

"You're right," Makoto agreed with a nod. "I didn't really think about that."

It was fairly common knowledge among the group that Rin's father had passed away in a fishing accident some years ago. He had been one of the best fishermen in the village, but a particularly violent storm had taken him, and a body had never been recovered. Makoto wasn't sure if Rin secretly hoped he was alive somewhere; it was a topic that the redhead never broached, not if he could help it. Makoto did wonder if perhaps Rin's motivation to become the knight of the Water Spirit was to protect them, but it seemed too silly and romantic for his friend that the idea was quickly discounted.

His and Gou's mother worked hard to support them, and they both did their best to keep their burden as light as possible. The academy took care of most of their expenses and occupied most of their time, so their family was not drowning in poverty, at least.

Makoto had fashioned a matching set of journals for his two friends, intending to give the gifts once the Water Spirit had finally chosen its pair. He had covered one with soft, blue material for Haru, hoping it would remind him of the sea that he so cherished. Rin's had been trickier; Makoto had settled for a pressed pattern of waves into rust-colored leather. He hoped they liked the gifts, provided he could finish both in time.

Nagisa had gotten up at some point during his concentrated thoughts, returning with a round of bread decorated with bright spots of what he assumed to be fruit. He took a much more enthusiastic bite and grinned triumphantly. "They thought they could hide it from me!" he crowed. "Wrong!"

Makoto laughed as Nagisa scattered crumbs along his cheeks. "You're supposed to eat that for dessert, Nagisa-kun."

The blond took an even larger bite in response, speaking through the mouthful. "You can't stop me!"

"No," Makoto said, feeling much more cheerful. "I wouldn't even try!"

* * *

Rain had continued to fall steadily throughout the night. The town took it as a good sign; the Water Spirit was not releasing torrential rain upon them like it had a few years previously, and the gentle rain was good for the land and for the sea.

The scintillating column of magic had not wavered from over the Water Temple, either, which was an even better sign. Staring at it from his bedroom window the following morning, Makoto felt uncontrollably nervous. His stomach twisted itself into knots without him fully understanding why. It was just the annual ceremony, to be followed by an expansive festival that would carry over late into the night. He couldn't recall having felt so nervous the year before, but something about going out into the water this year, traveling the short distance to the temple, made him tremble.

He stared hard at his reflection, willing his lips into an easy smile and turning away from the mirror when the corners of his mouth quivered.

If his parents noticed anything, they were silent. When he met with Nagisa on the streets, the blond was chipper as usual, glossing over Makoto's shaking hands and his uneasy smiles with cheerful chatter. They walked together to one of the rafts that had been set up for the town to use; people were filing aboard, and the air was charged with excitement and anticipation. Makoto wondered why he didn't feel the same; where was this negative energy coming from? Nagisa continued to talk beside him, and the brunet inserted a laugh where appropriate to show he was still listening.

He felt deeply uncomfortable on the makeshift ship; the wood creaked as it rocked gently over the waves. When the first raft was full, they severed their ties to the dock and set off. The second raft, still waiting on a few more people, followed dutifully behind them.

Nagisa was no Haru, but the knowing look his friend gave him was enough. Makoto could barely stop himself from latching on to the other's arm.

The rain fell harder as they approached the temple. Its glistening doors were propped wide open, and the steps that led down into its deepest rooms were slick with water. When the raft stopped, held in place by the same magic that held the doors open, everyone disembarked slowly and carefully. Slipping down the temple steps would be a bad omen.

Makoto found himself shivering as he crossed the threshold of the temple. It was cold, and the air was very still. The structure itself seemed to hum with magic and the water clung to his feet. He swore he felt the creeping sensation of water coiling around his calves, but when he looked down and stuck one foot out of the his robes to check, there was nothing except his slightly damp sandals.

"What are you doing, Mako-chan?" Nagisa whispered, tugging on his arm. "Come on. We have to get to our class."

As with the academy students, civilians were grouped by age. A small gathering of other students, dressed in a wider variety of colors than their magical counterparts, huddled together at the far end of the temple's gathering room. The stairs sloped downward, opening into a large hall. A single hallway branched off of it, and there was the sound of rushing water and the gentle chime of bells – and Makoto wondered how they rang if there was no wind to push them.

Nagisa didn't give him the opportunity to dwell on the thought, pulling him along as they scaled the stairs. There was a sudden rushing in his ears, and Makoto's trembles intensified. Far from welcoming, the Water Temple felt like it wanted to swallow him whole. He would never see the light of day again.

Flickering torches lined the walls, lit with magical flames that burned eerie silver. Makoto shivered, stepping closer to his friend as they waited in silence.

What felt like fingers brushing his neck made him start, but when he looked back, there was nothing there. Nagisa graced him with a perplexed look. "Are you sure you're okay, Mako-chan? It's just the ceremony."

He tried to laugh, though it came out sounding strangled. "F-fine, Nagisa-kun. I'm fine."

It was moments later that the crowded room began to empty as the older groups filed down the hallway. One by one, the older citizens of Iwatobi traipsed down the hallway, entering the deeper levels of the temple. When they were younger, they had speculated what was in the deeper levels – more water, maybe, or different rooms, or something exciting. Now, Makoto wished for nothing more than a reason to leave the temple and to never have to attend another ceremony.

When it was finally their turn, they walked down the hallway in silence. There were no torches here, just flickering lights that shimmered within the walls themselves. It sloped gently downward, and Makoto wondered with some apprehension how deep under the waves they were now. If the Water Spirit had ever had a chance to kill the entire town at once, the perfect opportunity would be during the annual ceremony to appease it. According to their history books, that had only happened once, and the magic students had been able to prevent a majority from drowning and to protect them from the ocean's great pressure. It had still scared him, though, and as a child, he had been unable to sleep for days, afraid that the darkness would crush him like the deep ocean waters.

The inner hallway opened again, expanding outward into a circular room. The walls were hewn from limestone, and soft light flickered from the ceiling, somewhere high above their heads. A platform, raised over shallow water, was where they all took their places carefully. Nagisa waved at him with a smile as he took a spot near the far wall. Makoto stood off to the side, unwilling to be near the center of the formation, trying to convince himself to be at ease –

Until the ground shook beneath his feet and the floor began to sink under him.

"I – what –?!" He sputtered with incoherence, trying to pull his thoughts together. _What_ was happening? Was this part of the ceremony? He couldn't recall it ever having happened before.

"Mako-chan! What – what's going on?!" Nagisa leapt towards him, but water rose to stop him; Makoto, terrified, felt himself descending into the temple floor. Coils of water as thick as his arms were curving around his legs, determinedly keeping him from moving away.

At least he wasn't drowning. The other students watched helplessly, calling to him, as the solid ground he had been standing upon sank lower and lower into the floor. When his eyes had sunk beneath the floor level, trickles of water flowing into the makeshift elevator, water had bound his entire body.

His classmates' faces peppered the sides of the circular cutout he could see above his head. The floor sank lower and lower, and Makoto's voice died in his throat; he couldn't think to form any words, plea or prayer.

 _Please,_ he thought wildly, closing his eyes and submitting to the terrified trembles that rocked his body, _please don't let me die._ Hands formed from the water as though responding to his thoughts, and they cupped his cheeks gently; warmth spread over his skin as watery thumbs stroked his face, wiping away the frightened tears that had collected in the corners of his eyes.

 _Hush_ , the words unfolded in his mind, and Makoto shook harder. _You will be home soon._

* * *

When Makoto found the strength to open his eyes, the ground had finally stopped moving. Above his head, the cylinder in which he had traveled ended in a tiny pinprick of light, and his pulse raced. He could barely make out dark shapes, perhaps his classmates' heads, but if they were still calling for him, their voices didn't reach this far.

His tears had dried during the descent, and he had somehow found the strength to keep standing upright as the sound of grinding stone and rushing water filled his ears. No more voices spoke to him, ethereal or otherwise, and eventually Makoto had trembled in silence, only the sound of his heavy breathing to accompany him in the dark.

The water had unwrapped from his body, leaving his clothes as dry as they had been before entering the temple. Confused, Makoto stood stock still, unable to motivate himself to step off of the platform that had carried him this far below the main rooms. The upper levels of the temple were bright, well-lit with the silver torches, but this room was dark. Glittering lights flickered in and out of existence along what he assumed to be the walls. When he had finally mustered the courage, Makoto felt his way carefully from his perch, discovering steps under his trembling fingers.

When he had reached what must have been the temple floor, a light flickered into being. In the center of the room rested a large, perfectly circular basin, and blue light danced across the surface of the water. Breathing labored, Makoto approached cautiously.

First a head and shoulders emerged from the still surface, a glowing form taking shape.

Then a scream died on Makoto's lips as he found himself face to face with the one entity he had never expected to meet: the Water Spirit.


	3. Crest

The Water Temple was as deep and welcoming as the ocean, and Haruka loved every moment he spent in its depths.

There was no tub to soak in, no pool to swim in, but it gave him the same sense of home that water in general did. He loved the constantly-damp floors, the intermittent light, and the feeling of the Water Spirit's presence everywhere and nowhere at the same time. His classmates' magics ceased to bother him as much when he felt so close to the Water Spirit that protected them, and, as he did every year, Haruka only wished he could spend more time in the temple.

This year, however, there was also that nagging feeling that something was going terribly wrong and that there was nothing he could do to fix it. Haruka tried to put it from his mind as they entered the temple to begin the ceremony. If his mind wasn't focused enough, his magic wouldn't mesh with his classmates and they would be unable to summon the Water Spirit to its true home. None of them had ever seen the spirit except for their teacher, so they could only assume that it was somewhere deep within the temple's confines. The continuous presence of its magic and might was convincing enough.

As it was, they had entered the temple and descended into a lower level than the one in which the civilians remained. The oldest students descended the deepest, and that was where Haruka found himself, Rin, Rei, and several of their other classmates. Kou had waved them off, her traditional robes damp from dragging on the wet ground.

They assembled in the summoning chamber, and Miho stood at the front of their group, hands held out in front of her with both palms up. Droplets of water collected along her exposed skin. A raised platform contained an elaborate chair spotted with moss and shells.

"O Great Spirit," Miho intoned, her voice high and clear, "we come to you again to seek your favor and your protection. Please hear our prayers as we call to you! Enter our home once more, so that we may offer you all we have."

The same opening lines were spoken every year, but this time, Haruka felt a weight settle over his shoulders as soon as his teacher's voice had died down. The summoning room was dimly lit, and the sound of dripping water echoed somewhere all around them – the weight suddenly increased tenfold, a presence so powerful that it nearly pushed him to his knees. He staggered, unable to hold himself upright and annoyed that he was the one to break their formation this year.

"H-Haru!" At least, he was annoyed until Rin's voice cut through the gloom. "What the _hell_ is happening to you?!"

Miho gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "Everyone stand back! Give the spirit space!"

Haruka's eyes flew open, though he had no memory of closing them. The pressure over his shoulders wasn't just the air – large hands made entirely of water were pushing him to his knees, and a column what appeared to be magic swirled around him. He could barely see beyond it with the dim light of the room, but did he really need to? The Water Spirit was entering, and it had chosen him as an anchor. It was a source of some pride, at least it was until the spirit separated from him and trickled down into its throne atop the dais; Haruka was left feeling drained and weak. Miho sank to her knees as well, and the rest of the mages followed suit.

The Water Spirit had never spoken to them, and it had never been summoned so quickly before. The spirit looked almost eager as its eyes swept the room; arms outstretched, magic stemming from its fingertips like steam, it hummed, and the noise shook the room with its force. All at once, there was humming everywhere, reverberating through their bodies and the temple's structure.

Then it was gone, and the Water Spirit melted into the floor.

He realized he was shaking only when Rin reached out to steady him. The other's warm hand on his wet shoulder was comforting; he felt the redhead's magic reach out to him, and Haruka responded in turn, relieved by the familiarity of it.

Miho rose from her bow, eyes bright. "We have done well this year, class!" she said happily. "The Spirit has arrived! While we wait for it to collect itself, we should meditate. This is a place of great power, and as the Priest Amaya-sama once said, 'To reflect on great power is to solidify oneself!'" She smiled, nodding twice. "Let us join our magic with that of the Great Spirit. It will appear again to us when it is ready!"

Rin sat down to his left, and Rei broke formation to flank his right. They both wore frowns, as though they too could sense that something was odd about this year's ceremony. Haruka tucked his trembling hands into his lap and closed his eyes, expanding his senses outward.

His damp shoulders and the memory of the spirit's great power, however, made his focus difficult.

* * *

Haruka had no idea how long they remained in meditation.

Time passed oddly in the temple; what felt like minutes could have well been hours and hours days. He felt neither hunger nor thirst, and his shaking had finally abated some time earlier. At some point, he swore he had felt the Water Spirit return, its energy as fathomless as the ocean itself. It was calling to him, and while Haruka had never been unsure when it came to the water before, he wasn't sure how to best respond. Did he move to the call? Did he expand his magic to it? Was he supposed to physically find a way to the Water Spirit? He had no idea.

At one point, Miho had asked them if they wanted to sleep. The temple was a safe haven, and they could do anything they wanted as long as the spirit granted them protection. Most of the class had declined, though a few of the younger students had leaned against the walls, lulled into sleep by the sound of crashing waves and the quiet murmur of Miho's voice in prayer.

They were allowed to speak amongst themselves some time after that. Rin fixed him with an unreadable glare, and Rei pushed his glasses farther up his nose. The condensation beading over his skin had caused him to perform the action much more frequently, and it was with some annoyance that he kept removing the glasses entirely, forced to clean them when they fogged.

"What happened?" Rin demanded lowly. "What the _hell_ happened?"

"I read about it," Rei answered promptly. "When the Spirit chooses an anchor when it's summoned. Haruka-senpai was the anchor. Apparently it usually happens when the spirit picks its priest." He sighed as his glasses slid back down. "Did it hurt?"

Haruka stared down at his hands. "No. It was… weird."

The redhead snorted, an undignified noise. "Tch. Looked like you were enjoying it."

He couldn't tell if Rin's words were meant to be a joke or not and merely shrugged in response.

"That must mean the spirit is close to making a decision," Rei said mildly. "I don't know if it usually chooses the same anchor as it does for its defenders."

Rin shrugged. "What does it matter? It won't pick until tomorrow, anyway. The summoning was supposed to take longer… It usually does. All the others aren't here yet."

They sat in silence for a few minutes longer. Haruka wondered, for the first time, what would happen if he and Rin were not chosen as priest and knight. What if someone else took the position? It was possible; prime candidates had been passed over before in favor of someone the Water Spirit felt closer to. Haru couldn't imagine that the water felt closer to anyone else, but then again, he didn't really know. It wasn't as though the water could speak to him.

They spoke at length of lighthearted things instead, Rin shoving them both around and not taking their duties seriously enough. Rei was too twitchy to loosen up much despite the teasing, and Haru couldn't shake the memories of the water for long enough to respond well, either. Eventually Rin gave up, sitting in brooding silence and shooting them annoyed glances every once in a while.

When Miho gathered them all together to perform the second part of the ceremony, Haru was still conflicted. What would happen if he wasn't chosen? What would happen if _Rin_ wasn't chosen? They had trained for this their whole lives. Could they return to being average citizens if everything didn't work out the way they had always planned?

He resolved not to worry about it as he joined hands with his two friends. The magic flowed between them, steady and smooth, and they raised their voices in the ancient chants to incur favor on the town and the rest of the world.

* * *

He still had no idea of the time.

After night had apparently passed, and Miho had informed them that the civilians were gathering in the upper levels of the temple, it had happened.

The walls shook, water roaring behind them. There was no wind in the temple, but their hair and robes fluttered. A sense of calm settled over Haruka, and he moved on autopilot, walking towards the Water Spirit's elaborate throne. He was drawn there without understanding why – in fact, it felt as though he was not in control of his body at all. A shimemring thread of magic connected him to his apparent destination; he followed it dutifully, eyes closed and feet moving of their own accord. His classmates were silent as he ascended, and as soon as he laid a hand atop the chair, there was searing, burning pain – but it was good; his nerves sang with newfound energy – but it hurt, didn't it, and he wasn't sure which competing sensation was winning until it was over, and he sagged against the throne.

"No…" Miho's voice broke through his classmates' murmurs. "Nanase-kun?"

Haru raised his head. His vision was suddenly clearer, sharper – despite the dim light, he could see the shock and awe on the other mages' faces. He held up both hands, awed as well. Dark swirls of magic covered his skin, the blue shimmering in the half-light. They curled over his knuckles and hands in patterns that resembled the waves, disappearing into his sleeves.

The mark, not of a priest, but of a _knight_.

As quickly as they had come, the tattoos were fading, sinking into his skin, disappearing completely except those that covered his palms. Magic crawled over his body, and he felt refreshed, invigorated – _alive_. Haruka couldn't remember ever feeling so full of life before, not even when he was swimming. His magic had expanded upward and outward, and there was so much of it that he could hardly contain it in his body. It cloaked him like a blanket with the same comforting presence that water provided. He felt at home, the way he did while floating in the ocean or lounging in the tub.

But then – he looked to Rin, whose eyes were as wide as saucers. There were no marks on his body, no tattoos, no swirl of magic. Haru's eyes widened as well, and he looked down at his hands. He was the knight. _He_ was the knight. But Rin was not his priest. No one present in the room had been affected by the Water Spirit the way he had. There was no otherworldly glow as the spirit chose its preferred host.

"Nanase-kun?" their teacher's voice broke through his thoughts. "Are you… alright?"

Haruka stepped down from the dais and nodded wordlessly. Rei was staring as well, his mouth slightly open in shock. If he said one word about how the fading tattoos were beautiful, Haru thought, he was going to be punched.

Rei said nothing, though, and Rin's mouth had drawn into a tight frown. The redhead's hands were clenched at his sides, and he looked – well, unreadable; Haru had never been good at decoding facial expressions that weren't Makoto's.

 _Makoto_.

Haruka suddenly remembered, with a very cold feeling, that Makoto was scared of the water because he said it always felt like there was something in it that wanted to drag him down. It wasn't the water trying to drag him down – it was the Water Spirit pining for its priest. It was the Water Spirit, unaware or perhaps uncaring, of its priest's mortality, determined to keep its chosen favorite to itself.

 _Makoto_ was the priest.

He wondered why no one had seen it before.

* * *

"What do you _mean,_ he's _gone_?!" Haruka felt his anger surge, and the civilians must have felt it as well; a few drew back, alarmed. His magical control had been excellent before his body had been inundated with all the magic of the Water Spirit. He had been provided with the opportunity to serve and protect, but that would have to wait until their priest was found. He couldn't yet control this newfound power. "Makoto is _gone_?"

Nagisa shook his head, pointing to the rounded platform that everyone seemed to be avoiding. "I don't know! We were about to start our part of the ceremony when – when the floor just sank! I don't know where he went!" The blond sounded distressed; Haruka had never seen him so worried. His eyes shone – with that same worry, probably. Everyone around them seemed agitated, worried, fidgety. "Haru-chan, you _have_ to find him."

"I'm going to," he said shortly, spinning on heel to return to the deeper areas of the temple. Now that he had been appointed knight, the entire temple was his to command and control. "Tell everyone to leave. _Now_."

Rin stood off to the side, expression dark. "Why, you don't all these _regular_ people around?" he asked, caustic and irritated. "Don't tell me – you don't need help. You're too good for that, right?"

Haruka slowed. "What's wrong with you?" he asked flatly. "It's _Makoto_."

Nagisa glanced between them, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. "Rin-chan…"

Rin didn't answer, merely spun on heel and headed for the stairs. His steps shuffled to a stop, and he shoved his hands into the sleeves of his robes. For all his posturing, Haruka was convinced he had to be worried, too.

Rei rested a hand on the blond's shoulder and shook his head. "We need to get everyone out of here. Haruka-senpai is right." When Nagisa fixed him with an imploring look, he shook his head even more vigorously. "It's too dangerous. If the Spirit has chosen a priest, then both priest and knight must be in its presence to solidify their bond. Otherwise…"

Haruka didn't need to be told what would happen otherwise. The Water Spirit's fixations could be dangerous. It had happened before, that the Water Spirit had been either unable or unwilling to let go of its priest, holding the thrashing body of its chosen one under the water, deeper and deeper still until they had eventually – no. _No_. It would _not_ happen to Makoto, not if Haruka could help it.

And he _could_ help it; _he_ was the _knight_. With his newfound magical prowess, he could do many things that had been previously unavailable. They couldn't afford to lose another priest, not after 17 long years of going without. _He_ couldn't afford to lose _Makoto_ , a much more motivating thought.

With that in mind, he descended farther into the temple without a single backwards glance.

* * *

He wandered the temple for what felt like hours. This inability to tell the passing of time was starting to grate on his already fraught nerves.

Over the years, Haruka had become attuned to the presence of his best friend. He knew Makoto's magic, as meager as it was, almost as well as he knew his own. However, searching for that tiny sliver of his friend was like searching the entire ocean for one fish. He had no clue where to start looking, and the temple was slow to respond to him when he reached out to it for help. Too new, Haruka figured. Control of the massive magic of the Water Spirit would come only with time, though already he could sense it warming to him.

He still couldn't shake the feeling that something was _wrong_. He had been chosen, and Makoto as well, but the temple was _off_. It shied away from his touch and his magic almost like a physical entity, and Haruka had not even the faintest idea why.

When he returned to the higher level, he found Nagisa and Rei waiting for him. The former was bouncing on the balls of his feet, arms crossed tightly across his chest and brows furrowed with worry. Rei was pacing a neat, oblong path that had dampened the hem of his ceremonial robe.

"Where's Rin?" he asked, mouth suddenly dry.

Nagisa shook his head. "He didn't want to come."

Rei shoved his glasses up his nose with force. "We want to help. That's why we came back."

Haruka considered them both. Nagisa's magic was underdeveloped, but he wasn't useless. Rei was powerful, and if there was something in the depths of the temple, he felt more comfortable with the other at his back. Still, Haruka hesitated. Rei's affinity for the water was terrible, and Nagisa really _wasn't_ trained. The temple was his responsibility now. If either of them were injured during their hunt for Makoto –

"We aren't taking no for an answer," Rei said crisply. "Tell me what you want us to do."

Haruka looked back to the top of the temple stairs, half hoping that Rin would appear there, and they could all continue down the temple as a group, as a team, as they always did. No redhead with a snarky grin appeased him, however, and Haru abandoned the hope a moment later.

"Follow me," he instructed. "And stay close. It gets pretty dark, and I haven't figured out how to activate all the lights yet."

His friends traipsed after him dutifully. This time, the temple seemed to welcome them into its depths much more readily. Odd. Odder still was that some of the rooms seemed to appear in a different order than what Haru remembered. After they had made a circuit through the temple, Haru stopped in his tracks, supremely frustrated.

"Haru-chan…" Nagisa's voice was quiet, but it still echoed. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Haruka closed his eyes, expanding his senses for a moment. Magic sparked under his fingertips, and he tried to picture the way the rooms had been ordered before Rei and Nagisa had joined him. The temple rumbled in response, floor quaking beneath their feet. He worried for a brief moment that the walls would crack and water would come flooding in, but no such thing happened. Instead, when he opened his eyes, the door in front of them was completely different from what it had been moments before.

"How… how did you do that, Haruka-senpai?" Rei asked, awed. "You just… I've never read anything like that." The temples were still a sacred place; few books were written about them. Rei must have seen his cool expression, for he quickly continued, "I – I just find it impressive! Did you… change something about the temple?"

"We're going to find out," he replied shortly. Haruka pressed his open palms to the doorway, lining up the symbols that remained deep, shimmering blue and engrained on his skin with the same patterns on the door.

It swung open soundlessly, and there – finally – finally what they were looking for. A grand staircase opened into a large room with a platform that was set slightly lower on the floor. If the temple had responded to him properly, the platform would take them all the way to the bottom, just like the one that had sucked Makoto away.

"There," he said. "That's what we want."

Nagisa and Rei exchanged a look that he nearly missed. "Are… are you sure, Haru-chan?" Nagisa shuffled after him, worried. "Can you sense Mako-chan at all?"

Haru offered an annoyed sound in return. As soon as he stepped onto the platform, it hummed to life. The water in the room seemed to respond to him; it rippled and shook despite the stillness of the room. "Hurry up." His magic was eager, pushing against the makeshift elevator as though the deep ocean water was calling to it. "I'll leave without you."

Rei stepped down without question, offering a hand and a sheepish expression to Nagisa. The blond took it with slightly more hesitation – perhaps self-preservation was finally kicking in. This was over all of their heads in more than just the literal sense.

The platform sunk, and the trio stood closer together. No words passed between them; it was not embarrassing that they were afraid, nor was it embarrassing that they were afraid for their friend. The Water Spirit could have gone about this in a better way, Haruka thought sourly. They were just a bunch of undertrained kids trying to explore an ancient structure. It would have been a lot simpler if the spirit had just marked Makoto like a normal priest. They could have all gone on to the festival and had a good time, like they always did.

It was not a short trip. At some point, Haruka could sense a faint flicker – and then – _yes_ , that was _Makoto's_ magic, magic that would only be present if he was still alive. His heart soared. Even in the dim light, the others could sense a change in his presence, and when they pressed for details, he was not shy about telling them.

"Makoto. I can sense him." His expression must have been brighter than the irritation he had worn before; Nagisa gave a triumphant laugh and threw his arms around Haruka for a hug. "He's okay."

Rei's glasses had fogged slightly, and the other teen removed them to furiously clean the lenses. "Excellent!" He let out a sigh of relief. "I hope our parents aren't too worried. We've been down here a long time."

Nagisa didn't remove himself. "You should worry about Mako-chan, not our parents!" he scolded halfheartedly. Then, in a more subdued voice, "Has it been a long time?"

"There's no way to tell for sure," Rei said, craning his neck to look back up at the way they had come. The circle above their heads had shrunk significantly. "Time passes differently in the Temple. All the books say that it follows different laws – I tried to study it once, out of curiosity, but the results are all inconclusive. But we've certainly been here for a while."

The blond finally pulled back, copying Rei's stance. "Huh! Well, I hope it's only been minutes outside! That way we don't miss the festival," he said, sounding more like his usual, cheerful self. "I don't want Mako-chan to miss the fishing game! We should all try to catch him a goldfish this year!"

Rei smiled. "That sounds like fun. I wonder what color Makoto-senpai would find most beautiful."

Their lighthearted conversation was abruptly cut short as the platform landed. It rocked from side to side, wobbling on an uneven base, and Haru was reminded of the way a boat felt on the ocean, rocked by waves. He steadied it with his magic and then hopped off, determinedly looking for the source of Makoto's energy. Haru tried not to reflect too much on the fact that he could see perfectly in this light. The Water Spirit had heightened his senses, and he wondered if it would extend to life outside of the temple as well. It was convenient, even if it was weird.

There was a swell of energy from below. It felt vaguely like Makoto, but Haru knew there was no way, _no_ way he could have controlled that much magic. But maybe it was; Makoto was a fairly quick study. Just as quickly as it had risen up, the magic dissipated. The others hadn't sensed it, or if they had, they gave no reaction.

And finally – it was there, just beyond his grasp. They had landed in a room without doors, and Haru's brows twitched with irritation. Was the Water Spirit playing with them? This was ridiculous. He concentrated on his magic once more, feeling for the boundary between the rooms and for Makoto's flickering energy. This time, however, the walls spun, and when they finally clicked into place, there was not a door but an opening in the wall, its edges jagged and rough.

"Stay here," he said, and his tone left no room to argue. "And if anything happens, go back to the surface."

"But Haru-chan –"

" _Stay_." Haruka looked back over his shoulder as he stepped forward. "The Water Spirit chose me for a reason, right?" He tried for a smile, tight-lipped and uncomfortable and feeling as though it didn't belong on his face. "And it chose Makoto for a reason. I need to know why."

Rei put a hand on Nagisa's shoulder, his glasses glinting in the half-light. "We probably shouldn't have come this far down anyway, Nagisa-kun," he said gently. "We'll stay."

Nagisa looked to be on the brink of arguing, but before he could say another word, Haru had stepped through the doorway. The wall spun closed behind him, and he was left momentarily in the dark.

Then his eyes adjusted – and he sprinted forward.

Makoto lay on his side, soaked from head to toe. His hair was matted to his head, robes slightly disheveled with how waterlogged they were – and Haru couldn't immediately tell if he was breathing. His magic was still pulsating with the beat of his heart, but for how much longer, Haru couldn't be sure. He crouched next to his friend, hesitating for only a moment before he rolled Makoto onto his back.

Haruka pressed his ear to the other's chest. Makoto's breathing was shallow. His lips were tinged with blue. How long had he been down here? How long had he been waiting? Moving quickly, he tilted the other's chin back, hesitated for a moment, and then leaned down – only to have Makoto begin to cough and sputter. Haru rocked back on his heels. A moment later, the other's eyelids fluttered, and his relief was practically palpable to see those familiar green eyes.

"Ha – Haru-chan?" Makoto's mouth trembled into a smile. "It is you, right? I'm not… dead?"

"When are you going to stop calling me –chan?" Haruka said shortly, terse in his relief. "What happened?"

Makoto's brows pinched together as he thought, and some color returned to his cheeks. Then he bolted upright, looking around the room wildly. "The Spirit!"

Now that he was sure Makoto was alright, Haruka turned his attention to the rest of the room. A basin, large enough to fit several people and polished smooth, was overflowing with water. Discarded robes were flung across the side, but there was no one present – and the only thing that suggested someone _had_ been there was the discarded clothing.

The water pooling on the floor was still shallow, but it seemed like the basin had a never-ending supply. He was quietly thankful that it was still shallow enough that Makoto hadn't drowned, lay out on his side the way he had been.

But it _was_ Makoto. Makoto was their priest, their chosen one. Now that he was looking, the signs were obvious. Pale blue encircled both his wrists as well as his exposed collar; if Haru hadn't known better, he would have thought it looked like jewelry. A bruise was forming on Makoto's forearm, and he frowned at it – but there, the mark of their priest. The pale blue design turned gradually darker as it spread from Makoto's collar to above his heart. Only a priest could be marked in the ceremonial royal blue, and only a priest was allowed the markings of the Water Spirit in so intimate a place. Haru wondered if it was normal that his sash was loose and both inner and outer robes were parted. It did expose the markings, but it seemed out of order.

"Haruka," Makoto said urgently, catching his attention immediately. The other's fingers on his wrist were cold, and his grip was weak. "We need to get out of here. The Water Spirit isn't here – it's _something else_."


	4. Trough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not overusing epithets is fucking hard, guys.

The Water Spirit was not at all what he had expected.

Then again, Makoto had never given much thought to what the Water Spirit looked like. When a man's body took shape, emerging from the basin and stretching languidly, he couldn't say he was too surprised. But when the other's long hair wasn't blue, nor were his eyes half as bright as Haru's, well, Makoto supposed it was odd. He had been expecting the Water Spirit to _look_ like water – and this person definitely didn't.

He did, however, exude an air of cool confidence, and as his bare feet padded across the damp floor, it was nearly silent despite the fact that he was moving over standing water. Makoto felt himself tremble, knees nearly buckling under his own weight.

The Water Spirit stopped, standing in place to examine himself. Short, silver hair clung to his forehead and cheeks, and his skin was pale, and – and his legs faded gradually from flesh to water again as he stood still. With a slight grunt of annoyance, the water re-formed body parts. The spirit stuck his foot in the air, wiggling his toes. It would have been comical if Makoto hadn't already been so terrified – it was as though the other man wasn't used to inhabiting such a body. When was the last time the Water Spirit had appeared to someone in a form other than, well, _water_? A moment later, the spirit was unfolding a thin, white robe to cover himself with, and he slid his arms through the sleeves with a blank expression.

The spirit looked to Makoto finally, spreading its arms wide. "Welcome," he said, and his voice didn't quite match the body, velvety and smooth. It didn't match the voice that had spoken to him during his descent, either – but again, maybe that was because of an actual body versus an unconfined spirit? "At last. _Welcome_."

Makoto gaped openly. Any words he might have uttered died on his lips, and he wasn't sure what to do or even how to go about standing up any longer.

"Makoto, isn't it?" the spirit asked, mouth curving into a friendly smile. At least, Makoto assumed it was meant to be friendly; the idea that the Water Spirit didn't know his name, didn't know the name of its own priest, set off alarms in his mind. He took a tentative step back, feet splashing in the few inches of water that suddenly covered the floor. "Tachibana… Makoto."

The other's image flickered for a moment, and there was longer hair and a taller stature – and then it was back to the smiling, silver-haired boy. Illusions were magic, right? They were possible? Makoto had never bothered to learn much about magic, though he found himself sorely wishing that he had. Surrounded by as many books as he had been in the shop, would it have killed him to crack one open about magical theory? No book spoke about the Water Spirit aside from its interaction with the world; nothing had mentioned its ability to take another shape, nothing had mentioned a propensity for illusions, and _nothing_ had mentioned the fact that the spirit was far more intimidating than anyone he had ever encountered.

"Ah, forgive me. I know you must be startled," the spirit spoke again, taking several more steps towards him. The fear made him wary; he couldn't help backing up. "Hm. There's no need to be afraid… Now that you're here, everything is _right_ again."

The spirit's mouth split, jaw unhinging. His smile was wide, exposing enough teeth to perhaps devour him alive, mouth curving past the point of a typical human's smile. Makoto's breath hitched, and he took another stumbling step back. His hands pressed into a wall, and the rest of his body followed.

Water crawled along his legs, tugging at the hem of his robe. It drew his gaze for a moment; he had half a mind to swat at it. Fear had numbed him to the cold, as it was quite chilly in this part of the temple, but it couldn't stop him from shuddering when the freezing water lapped at his skin. Makoto hugged his arms to his chest, returning his gaze to the Water Spirit, only to find that it was directly in front of him. He yelped, unable to keep the exaggerated startle response quiet, breath quickening to fluttering gasps as the spirit's cold hands cupped his cheeks.

It wasn't the way the water had comforted him during his descent. It wasn't soft and warm, and it definitely wasn't reassuring. Makoto's heart raced, pulse thundering in his ears. He half wondered if the other man could hear it. These hands were like ice, and goose bumps raised along his arms and slunk down the back of his neck.

"Shh," the spirit said fondly. "You'll be alright. I only want to see…"

Hands pressed to his hips, and suddenly Makoto was worried that this would take a very different turn. There were no details regarding how a priest was initiated – it wasn't, couldn't be in the _literal_ sense, that he was supposed to become, er, _one_ with the spirit? A flush blossomed over his cheeks at the thought. That couldn't, simply _couldn't_ be right.

The silver-haired spirit was laughing at him, a gentle hand laid across his chest. "Now, now… There's no need to be so worried. I told you; I only want to _see_ …"

Makoto whimpered as his sash was untied, his robes parted, and then blue eyes examined his chest critically. A single, cold fingertip traced his breastbone, and Makoto held his breath. The spirit's expression was cold and calculating, and while Makoto had always thought the Water Spirit to be a being of great power, he had also always thought it to be at least somewhat invested in its human constituents. A shiver seemed to go through the other man, and the spirit pulled away.

"Of all times…" it muttered, examining the back of its own hand. "I suppose we'll have to make this quick."

His cheeks smarted with a blush, and hands encircled both of his wrists. He didn't have the strength to struggle, and when the Water Spirit pulled him from the wall and closer to the basin, Makoto didn't try to stop it. However, when they approached the edge of the basin via a set of slippery stone steps, water still bubbling as though something was contained deep beneath it, he dug in his heels, finally finding his voice.

"W-wait," he said, hoarse from crying and from his terror. "Um. Please."

The spirit fixed him with an exasperated look. "So he speaks at last."

His resistance was met with nothing but irritation from the other man. "I-I… What is…" Makoto struggled to find the words. "I want to know what's happening?" he settled on when the spirit had stilled long enough for him to think. "What's… going on?"

The spirit smiled again, image flickering as though there was something else underneath trying to shine through, two images spliced into one. Sharp teeth behind that attempt at friendliness, a wolf in sheep's clothing. "This should be enough of an answer for you."

With that, the silver-haired man had pushed him into the basin. Water clawed at his robes, pulling him down, but a hand remained firm on the back of his neck. Makoto floundered, scrabbling at the smooth wall that was within reach, fingernails sliding uselessly as he tried for a handhold. The water around him seemed to change directions, cradling him for a moment before it rammed into his chest with the solidity of a fist, forcing the air from his lungs.

For a moment, he was filled with a sense of dread. Bubbles accompanied his fierce exhale, and his lungs were burning. This would be the end. At the bottom of the Water Temple, where his family would never find his body. He was going to drown, a victim of the Water Spirit, and the rest of the town would probably suffer as well.

Then the water surrounding him began to glow, and Makoto wasn't so sure what was going to happen after all.

* * *

It was some time later that the spirit finally pulled him from the water. After being periodically held under for however long, allowed to breathe only in desperate and sporadic gasps, Makoto was glad to finally be back on solid ground. The water had, at some point, started to push the opposite direction, trying to get him out of the basin. He wasn't sure if that was because it was pushing him back to the Water Spirit or some other reason, but it had been an odd sensation, to have competing holds on his body.

The glowing water had been met with triumphant, crowing laughter from the spirit. Despite the lack of air in his lungs, Makoto was fascinated to see crawling patterns form over his skin. It didn't burn, like he had always thought the marks of a priest must have when they were described in textbooks; instead, it tingled and itched, like many persistent mosquito bites.

When the glow had faded, and the spirit had pulled him from the water, crisscrossing patterns of cobalt lined his heaving chest. He could see part of it, nearly going cross-eyed to try and see how far the patterns reached even as he retched and sputtered with the water caught in his throat.

The Water Spirit stretched, raising arms high over his head. He leaned to one side and then the other, physical form lithe but still muscular, and thin limbs that belied a monstrous strength. Makoto didn't consider himself particularly powerful, especially when it came to magic, but he wasn't _weak_. Once in a while, when Haruka wanted to practice some sparring technique without pressure from Rin, Makoto volunteered to help him out. His fighting skills, while not great, were certainly not terrible, yet the spirit had overpowered him so easily. It probably hadn't helped that there was still some resistance from the water and that his struggles had been subdued to begin with, but there was something very disconcerting about his life being held in the balance by an apparently _un_ balanced spirit.

Said spirit was holding his hands out in front of his face, contemplating them silently. "I see…" he spoke after a pause, mumbling something else that Makoto couldn't quite catch over his own coughing and sputtering as he tried to catch his breath. "How unfortunate for our time to be cut so short."

As soon as he could breathe again, Makoto scrambled to his feet. Despite the impromptu drowning, his body thrummed with energy and magic, and he felt strangely invigorated. There was still water caught in the back of his throat, but now he knew he had some power in this situation. The Water Spirit, having marked him as the priest, had given him at least _some_ power to fight back. Maybe this was a test?

Makoto doubted it. The way the spirit was looking at him, hungrily and with those jagged teeth exposed in the long line of its too-wide smile, was not at all what he had expected from a usually-benevolent force. Priest and knight were tested, of course, but not _this_ way.

Suddenly, a torrent of water exploded from the ceiling, heading towards – the Water Spirit?

Bewildered, Makoto watched as the column slammed into the Water Spirit, pushing him backwards. It seemed, for a moment, that the water would never stop. The noise was deafening; Makoto resisted clapping his hands over his ears in favor of trying to see what, exactly, was happening.

Standing stock still and slightly wet was someone – or something – else entirely. Instead of the short, silver hair, this man – creature? – had locks that were long and stringy and as pale blue as the magic around his wrists. It was a reflection of the odd after-image he had kept seeing, the glimpse out of the corner of his eye of another person that had disappeared as soon as he looked back.

" _Now_ he's done it," the new figure muttered, shaking out his hands. He appeared dry – except for, Makoto noticed, the sleeves of his robes. They were soaked through, sticking readily to the other's arms. Instead of water, this time his limbs faded gradually into sickly green wisps, dark and undulating in the dim light. "And here I thought we would have more time together."

"What?" Makoto nearly choked on the word, hardly able to speak. " _What_?!"

That smile returned, exposing enough teeth to make him uncomfortable. "The taste of human flesh is always better when it's been properly _seasoned_. I can smell your fear from here…" The other man sighed, nostrils flaring in a way that reminded Makoto of the horses at the fair, the ones children could ride in circles for the duration of a song. Then he tossed his head, hair following like a mane. "I didn't think my disguise would fall so quickly."

Makoto stumbled backwards, thoughts racing. How did one access magic? He had only tried a few times over the years, and never the quantity that he apparently now possessed. _Why couldn't the Water Spirit have picked Haru_? It was a thought that was quite tinged with despair as the imposter advanced. Its – his? – eyes were still blue, but darker, more sinister. The voice _did_ match the body this time, not the silver-haired boy from before. Was that boy the real Water Spirit?

This was all just too much. Despite the sharp prickling at the corner of his eyes, Makoto gathered himself and struggled to his feet. Water spirit or no, _imposter_ or no, he wasn't going to allow this madman to push him around any longer. He wasn't looking for a fight, wasn't _prepared_ for a fight, but that didn't mean he wasn't prepared to at least _try_ defend himself. Prepared or not, terrified or not, he wasn't ready to give up.

The water coiling around his ankles was suddenly responsive, rising up like an extra set of limbs to help him carry out the thought. The other man slowed to a stop, considering the water attentively.

"Aptitude for the water, hm?" he asked, and it was almost as though he was talking to himself. "Should have expected it."

This time, when the strange man lunged at him, Makoto felt – not ready, not _really_ , but at least readier than he had been before. The magic that pulsed through his body, making him feel alive and bizarrely hypersensitive, responded faster than he did. Another column of water rose from what had collected on the ground, colliding with the stranger's attack. Then, again, the water swirled and danced around him, keeping the spirit's imposter at bay and defending him from the man's attacks.

The room spun. Makoto felt his back collide again with the wall, and it knocked the breath out of his lungs. He coughed, feeling, not for the first time, slightly helpless as his feet dangled slightly above the floor. The stranger's forearm pressed hard against his throat, and he coughed again, staring imploringly into cold blue eyes.

"The spirit should have let me _eat you_ alive," the man sneered. "Stupid _brat_."

If he had had Rin's fire, Makoto thought, he might have had the courage to spit in the stranger's face.

Water sprung over his shoulders – again, like it was reacting to his thoughts – and would have hit the other man in the face had he not leapt back. Makoto wheezed, massaging his throat as he crumbled to the floor. His robes were so soaked that the water there didn't make much of a difference, and he knelt with his hands partly submerged for a moment longer. The water entwined with his fingers, and he tried to draw upon some inner energy, something within him that would expel this unwanted creature from the Water Temple. It was supposed to be a sacred place. It was _supposed_ to be safe. _Where was the Water Spirit_?

The magic that rested over his shoulders and trickled down his arms began to tingle and burn in earnest, and Makoto couldn't help but react to it. His own frustration at being put in this situation was boiling over, and when he noticed that steam was rising from where his hands were making contact with the floor, he jerked them back in surprise.

"Tch." The sound was too close for comfort; Makoto raised his fists, wishing desperately that there was someone to help him. Crouched on the floor as he was, it was a miserable position for defense, and he knew it. "Pathetic."

His heart twisted – _was_ he pathetic? Was it so wrong, that he had no idea how to use the magic that had been thrust onto him? Makoto gritted his teeth, anger rising instead. It wasn't. He could learn. He wasn't pathetic – _right_?

 _Hush_ , the voice unfolded in his mind again, soothing and gentle. _You are perfect_.

This time he wasn't startled. The water pushed him to his feet, and Makoto tried to draw from that pulsing energy in his chest, those feelings of fear and despair, that trickling tension. His hands began to glow, vision tinged with blue. The imposter took a step back, looking for the first time alarmed.

He wasn't sure what happened next except that the magic and the water in the room was at once everywhere, nowhere, filling his senses but leaving him empty. A howl, as frustrated and desperate as he felt, filled his ears. He couldn't see, couldn't speak. Soft skin brushed his cheek.

Makoto fell, world fading to a resolute black.

* * *

He gasped for breath, inner eye consumed with memories of drowning, thrashing, struggling for the surface.

Coughing hurt his chest, but better to sputter than to be unable to breathe. Makoto jerked his chin to his chest, coughing harder, and then struggled to open his eyes. The room was fuzzy, but he blinked once, twice, and then –

"Ha – Haru-chan?" He tried for a smile. _Finally_. Someone had come to help him. Or perhaps the Water Spirit had tired of its test and had killed everyone in the temple? Makoto shivered at the thought, damp and cold. Perhaps this was the afterlife. He always had imagined that being dead was cold. "It is you, right? I'm not… dead?"

The expression that passed over Haruka's face was telling. Such strong relief; Makoto wondered how long it had been since his classmates had seen him disappear into the floor. How had Haruka even known about it? How had he known to come this far into the temple? It must have been quite a feat, no small amount of work to get this far. Gratitude, flush and warm, bubbled in his chest.

"When are you going to stop calling me –chan?" Haruka said briskly, eyes sweeping the room before refocusing. "What happened?"

What _had_ happened? Makoto's brows furrowed. The floor had sunk beneath him, he had met the Water Spirit, but it had turned out to be – "The Spirit!" He bolted upright, gaze darting around the room. There was no sign of movement, no sign of life. They were, for all intents and purposes, alone in the cold, dark room. No sign of the Water Spirit, and no sign of the imposter, either. A jagged structure, blotting out what looked to be the outline of a doorway, loomed behind Haruka, and Makoto hadn't remembered it being there before. Something like an exit would have stood out.

"Haruka," he said, dropping his voice to a whisper in his urgency. "We need to get out of here." The other teen wasn't looking at him; he latched onto Haruka's wrist. The skin was warm under his chilly fingers. "The Water Spirit isn't here – it's _something else_."

He had never seen Haruka look so expressly alarmed. Even more alarming was the fact that there was light coming from the palm of the other teen's hand. Makoto tightened his grip on Haruka's wrist, uncertain. The glow intensified, and that same rush of warmth in his chest was making his head swim.

"Something else?" Haruka repeated. He looked ready to scramble to his feet and run, but Makoto wasn't quite sure he had the energy to follow. "What are you talking about?" That flat tone couldn't hide the other's concern, but Makoto was suddenly too dizzy to pay attention any longer.

Haruka rose from his crouch, scrutinizing the room with a blank expression. It took a moment longer for Makoto to struggle to his feet as well, and once he did, he was struck with such a bout of dizziness that Haruka nearly had to support his weight to keep him upright.

"You used a lot of magic." It wasn't a question, though how Haruka could tell was beyond him. "You're the priest."

Makoto tried for a smile. Adrenaline had coursed through him earlier, but now he just felt _tired_. "It was a surprise to everyone, I think."

Haruka wordlessly held up his palm. _Oh_. That explained the light. The waves decorating his skin were moving, rocking back and forth, and when Makoto brushed them with his own fingertips, they glowed brighter. The light grew almost unbearable, and heat coursed from his hand. If Haruka felt the same, he wasn't showing it; while Makoto grimaced and averted his gaze, Haruka simply stared.

As quickly as it had begun, there was a single, bright flash, and then it was over. Haru flexed his hands, and Makoto shuddered with another wave of vertigo.

" _Haru_ ," he breathed, trying again for urgency. "We really need to get out of here. In case… in case it comes back."

They left the room without any more words between them. Haruka stayed close to his side – and before they crossed the threshold into the other room, closed his robe over his exposed chest. Makoto glanced back only once. The basin's overflow had slowed some, and there were shining green patterns forming on the walls as dark as moss, pulsing as though they wanted to suck the life out of the Water Temple. No Water Spirit.

 _Won't be long_. When words brushed across his thoughts, this time Makoto was ready. He latched onto them with fervor, urging the voice to say more. _Too far._ That didn't make any sense – why would the spirit stray too far from its own temple? _Distance._ There was an echo now as the voice became faint. _My… my priest_. _You must_ …

What the spirit wanted him to do, however, was apparently too much. The voice, pleasant and soothing, faded from his consciousness. Haruka graced him with an odd look, as though he could hear the projection of the brunet's thoughts. He reached desperately for the spirit, determined to find out what had happened, who the imposter was, _what_ they were supposed to do. The traditional bonding between priest and knight, a ceremony more for show than anything else, would take place later that evening, but after that, their duties were largely up to the Water Spirit.

 _What did the spirit want them to do_?

"Mako-chan!" Nagisa ran to them as soon as they had entered an attached room, latching around his waist. "Oh, Mako-chan, I – I'm – I'm so glad you're okay…"

Makoto coughed, smiling gently. "Oh – Nagisa..." He grimaced; his chest was tender from so much harsh coughing, and he didn't want to put too much weight on his shorter friend. "You – you too, Rei?"

Rei, a few steps back, looked down at his hands, a flush creeping into his cheeks. "I – we were worried, Makoto-senpai… You just… No one knew what had happened…"

Nagisa looked up at him with a distressed expression. "You just disappeared! We tried to come after you, but Haru-chan said we had to make everyone leave, and I didn't want them to never find you because what if you were drowned somewhere and no one ever knew?" The blond tipped his head back to wail. "I'm so glad Mako-chan is okay!"

Laughing hurt. Makoto managed a few, weak chuckles. "I… I'm fine, so… don't worry about it, Nagisa-kun."

Neither Haruka nor Rei looked convinced, but no one pushed. When Haruka had shown him the makeshift elevator they had used to get to the bottom of the temple, Makoto had a hard time convincing himself that it was safe to board. The others didn't force him, but as they began the ascent, Makoto sat down, unable to hold himself upright any longer.

Nagisa wanted to know what had happened. Rei looked curious as well. Haru would have paid more attention, probably, if he hadn't been so consumed with controlling the temple. Makoto watched him idly, wondering where Rin was. Had he evacuated with the rest of the town?

He was too drained to field many of Nagisa's questions, and after a bout of silence, even opening his eyelids was too much of a chore. Sleep, this time, claimed him, and he heard Haruka's sharp murmur not to wake him until they were at the top of the temple.

* * *

Makoto had never before been so happy to see open water.

The ocean waves lapped at the sides of the temple. Bright afternoon sunlight nearly blinded them all as they emerged. Nagisa gave an excited laugh, pointing up at the sun and declaring that they hadn't missed much of the day after all. Rei had shaken his head, pointing out that they still had no idea what time it was or even if it was the same day and wondering at what point it had stopped raining. They fell short of discussing the Water Spirit's appeasement in its apparent choice of priest and knight, a fact Makoto was grateful for.

Makoto was quiet. The thought of going back to the town and having to explain what had happened made him nervous – but nowhere near as nervous as the thought of going back into the temple's depths. Haru sent him a look that he found, for once, difficult to decipher and then sent up a signal, a bright flash of water magic, high up into the air. The town, he had explained, had wanted to know if and when their priest was found.

"They won't let us see each other until after the ceremony tonight," Haruka said as a raft approached them. "So if you want to tell me what happened, do it now."

"There was – someone," Makoto said, looking down at his clasped hands. At some point, he had pressed his fingers together to try and stop his hands' shaking. "It wasn't the Water Spirit. He said…" He hesitated.

Nagisa opened his mouth. Rei elbowed him sharply with a look that prevented any interruption.

"He said he was going to eat me," he finished in a rush. "I didn't know what to do. The Water Spirit, I think… It was helping me fight." Makoto twisted his fingers together. "I don't think it was supposed to happen this way."

"There are a variety of demon spirits that have an affinity for water," Rei supplied after a pause. "Could it have been one of those?"

Makoto shrugged, trying not to think about it too hard. "He was wearing a… disguise, I guess. I don't know what the spirit looks like, so I don't know if it was…" The memory of drowning, of helplessly floundering in the water, rose up; he shuddered. "I don't know."

"We'll talk about this later," Haruka said with a note of finality. "You're fine now."

Rei pushed his glasses up his nose with an agreeable noise. "After the ceremony, we can figure things out. There has to be a better record of the Water Spirit somewhere." He offered a small, shy smile. "We'll help you, Makoto-senpai."

Nagisa sidled up to his left side, smiling widely. He wound himself around one of Makoto's arms, and he wondered if the blond was trying to help him stand on his shaky legs. "Haru-chan's right! You're fine now. He was really worried, you know."

Haruka stood with his back to them, staring down the small raft that was headed their way. He didn't look back at them, even when he spoke. "Stop over talking it."

Even with his back to them, it wasn't enough to hide the slight flush creeping up the back of his ears and cheeks.

* * *

Ren and Ran had attached themselves to his arms, hugging him as tightly as possible. His mother and father had hugged him as well, and everyone looked teary-eyed, simultaneously guilty and relieved. Makoto supposed it was because of the shock; no one had expected the only boy that hadn't attended the magical academy to be _the one_.

"I thought you were gone forever!" Ran cried, burying her head in his shoulder. "Nii-chan! You can't leave like that again, okay?!"

Ren, tougher but only slightly, had hugged him at first but then pulled back. "You shouldn't worry mom like that, nii-chan!" He leaned forward, peeking around his sister. "Do you… Do you have any marks?"

It took him a moment to register that Ren was not asking about the potential finger-shaped bruises on his neck or the scratches on his inner arms. Makoto smiled gently. "I do. Every priest does; you know that."

He could see his parents perk up at the mention of the word priest – they were proud of him, for whatever reason. Makoto still couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that the Water Spirit had chosen _him_ , of all people. Ren tugged on his sleeve, leaning in close to his ear to whisper, "Is it allowed for us to see?"

How could he deny the excitement on their eager, young faces? Makoto smiled. "You can see these, can't you?" he said, holding both of his wrists out for inspection. "I'm sure you'll see all of them at the ceremony later. Don't you want to be surprised?"

The two children gave opposite answers in unison; their focus flew to each other instead of to their older brother. "I want to see it _now_ ," Ren whined. "You're not any fun at all!"

Ran shuffled her feet, shaking her head. "We're not supposed to! You're a bad actor! You can't pretend to be surprised!"

Before it could escalate into a shoving match, as was common in the household, Makoto stood. "Stop it," he said gently. "You'll both see at the same time. It'll be worth it, okay?" He patted them both on the head in turn.

Both his siblings looked fairly disgruntled at the treatment, but they scampered off into the genkan to fetch their shoes for the festival. Makoto smiled uneasily at his parents. They would be harder to fool. He was still feeling shaky from his encounter with such an odd creature – and it might be worth bringing up to his parents. They might have known something about it.

With the children gone, his mother approached again and drew him into a tight hug. "I'm so glad you're alright," she whispered, squeezing him a little tighter. "You had us all worried." He felt a little awkward – an apology was on the tip of his tongue when she pulled back. "My son, the priest…" She sighed. "I hope the spirit wasn't angry that we all thought it was Haru all these years."

He was going to tell them. It would be easy – but they would _worry_ , and he would have to explain all over again what had happened in the temple. So instead, "No," he lied, faltering only slightly. "It wasn't a big deal…"

Makoto half wished Haruka was there right that moment. He could have used someone else's warm hand tucked into his own.

His mother beamed. "Well, don't let us keep you. We'll find you at the shrine later, okay?"

At least this shrine was on land. Much smaller, and dedicated to the Water Spirit's chosen pair instead of the spirit itself, it was located at the zenith of the hill. The festival wound its way around the hill, following the angled streets of some of the higher districts. The lanterns were usually lit at sundown, and he and Haru would meet there to solidify their bond formally, in front of the whole town. It was almost like they were getting married or something. In a sense, they were – except they were both also being married to the Water Spirit instead of only each other. But maybe that space was closer to the spirit than the temple was? Maybe he could get some answers.

With newfound motivation, Makoto said goodbye to his parents and to his siblings before heading up the hill. The festival was on hold until he and Haru's bond was solidified – this year, the ceremony would take place sooner than sunset. They would meet in the shrine, cement the bond between priest and chosen knight since they had been marked by the spirit separately, and carry on with the festivities. Just to make sure that there would be no more problems. No more complications.

But maybe… He couldn't help the thought that perhaps at the shrine, he would be able to speak again to the Water Spirit.


	5. Upwelling

When they had finally gotten back from the Water Temple, they were swarmed by people. Parents, teachers and classmates alike; everyone was clamoring to know what had happened in the depths of that temple and how Makoto was feeling and _wow, Makoto is the priest_. The clamor was a notch louder than the rest, the fact that Makoto, _Mako-chan_ , the eldest Tachibana boy, he was the _priest_. Wasn't that odd? Wasn't that something else? Wasn't it curious? Wasn't that just _something_?

The fact that everyone wanted to fuss about the Water Spirit's decision was, in short, annoying.

Haruka stood still, hands at his sides, as his teacher fretted over the state of his wet clothes and chattered on about something that he didn't really care to listen to. Everyone else had parents or siblings to fuss over them. Usually Makoto was the one who did the fussing, with that sigh that he always did, the one that said he wasn't annoyed, but _really Haru-chan, you could have done this yourself_. Of course he could have. It was more fun to make his friend take care of things. It _wasn't_ fun to have his teacher fussing over him like they had just suffered through some kind of disaster.

Maybe Makoto had, but the temporary anxiety of losing track of his friend – and now, his priest – had quickly worn off. Makoto was exhausted, yes, but he was essentially fine. That was all that really mattered to Haru. They could deal with the threat of some demon lurking in the Water Temple later, even if the thought was recurring in the back of his mind, a persistent tickle that there was still something wrong.

Miho paused suddenly, her finger poised as though she was about to say something very important, but Haru fixed her with a deadpan expression. To his surprise (and perhaps relief), she fell silent.

"Can I go?" he asked after a pause when she failed to fill the silence.

Miho blinked owlishly at him, as though it hadn't crossed her mind that Haruka would want to leave. "Oh. Of course you can, Nanase-kun!" She smiled, dropping her raised hand to rest it on his shoulder. "I'm sure you want to spend this special time with your friends! It isn't every year that we have a knight chosen!"

He was aware that on some level, she was trying to cheer him up. This was supposed to be a happy time, wasn't it? It was supposed to be full of celebration and festivities, food and frivolity. Instead, Haruka was positive his expression reflected two things very clearly. The first was that he was beyond irritated. It was enough that they had separated him from Makoto after he had spent the better part of the morning searching for him. The second was the frustration over the fact that Rin was mysteriously _gone_. It was as though the redhead had dropped off the face of the earth, and Haruka, despite his penchant for solitude, was not in the mood to deal with all of this by himself.

Nagisa and Rei had been shuttled away by their parents, and, in the former's case, siblings. Nagisa's sisters had tittered and laughed when he had tried to protest, insisting that he wanted to stay with Haruka; they were even more insistent, and Nagisa had finally promised to find him later. Rei had left more quietly, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and shrugging apologetically. Neither of them had remembered to mention that they were supposed to meet at Rin's house. With Rin still mysteriously absent, were they even still supposed to go?

"I'd like to speak with you and Tachibana-kun after the festival. Tomorrow!" Miho called after his retreating back. "Please don't be late to the shrine!"

Of course not, he wanted to answer. Why would he be late to something so important? He _did_ have priorities.

People tried to stop him as he broke away from the crowd, but Haru ignored them. Makoto's parents had been among the first to appear, whisking their son away. So many people had wanted to talk to Makoto; everyone was shocked. Makoto, the priest? Makoto, the only boy in their age group who _hadn't_ gone to the academy? _Makoto was the priest_? Really, Haru thought somewhat sourly, it sounded as though everyone was questioning the spirit's decision. If it had chosen Makoto, it had chosen him – it wasn't as though it was up for debate.

He made for the shrine, avoiding everyone. The streets were flooded with people beginning to celebrate; the skies were clear now, and a priest and knight had been chosen, and, well, it _was_ a cause for celebration. Usually.

Despite the townsfolk's insistence to talk to him, to offer congratulations and a pat on the back, to preach to him about the importance of carrying out his Knighthood, no one followed him. Haru wandered the winding streets upward. When he was at a good vantage point, he paused to look back down over the town. The merchant district was decorated up and down with lanterns and there was a slight _pop-pop_ as someone set off a waterwork. Tendrils of water magic shot into the air, exploding outward into a flower design. He thought of Nagisa, but then his thoughts were very quickly overtaken again.

Now that he was alone, he couldn't stop thinking about what Makoto had told him. Haruka was used to seeing his best friend frightened – after all, it happened more often than either of them wanted to admit. Makoto was easily spooked, and without magical defenses or water affinity, it was only natural. This, however, was a different kind of scared. It was – it was disconcerting, to see the terror flit over the brunet's expressive face. What had terrified him so badly in the depths of the temple? Nothing that Haruka had seen, that was for certain.

He tried to imagine what kind of terrible creature could have been down there. What could have caused those bruises so quickly? A priest wasn't _weak_. The Water Spirit didn't choose a host that couldn't defend itself. He had seen pictures of dragons before, but weren't those supposed to be extinct? Hydras, water dragons, had died out years ago, killed for their hoards or for their surplus of meat. What other water creatures were there? Sea serpents, perhaps. There were still nymphs in some places. Spirits of the elements. What could it have been?

So consumed with his thoughts was Haruka that he nearly walked headlong into one of the very people he had been searching for.

Rin drew back first, eyes wide. In almost the same breath, he tried to turn and head back the way he had come, which was – from up the hill? Had he been at the shrine this whole time? Haruka wondered if the redhead had been praying for their safe return. That felt too sentimental for Rin, though, and he quickly discounted it. He had probably just been avoiding them, though Haruka couldn't really wrap his mind around _why_.

"Wait," he said flatly. "I want to talk to you."

Rin slowed. "What do you want to talk to _me_ for?" he asked without looking over his shoulder. "Don't you have your _priest_ to convene with now?" There was bitterness there, and it was obvious enough that Haruka could hear it clearly. Where had that come from? Rin hadn't always sounded like that, especially not speaking about their friends. "You don't need me anymore."

Haruka frowned. "Stop being stupid."

Perhaps the wrong thing to say. Rin turned, and in the same instant, his magic flared up around him, responding to his emotions. "Stop being _stupid_?" he repeated, tone high and mocking. "Right, because that's all I am. I'm just some stupid nobody. _Thanks_ , Haru. Good to know where I stand."

"I didn't say you were a nobody," he said, an odd calm settling over him even as Rin's heckles rose. "I want to _talk_ to you."

He couldn't tell if Rin was furious or just disappointed; the corners of his mouth were trembling as he smirked. " _Talk_ , then. If you can _spare_ time for me." The sneer was unbecoming; Haru set his mouth into a thin line.

"Makoto said he saw something in the temple." When Rin's only reply was a showy roll of his eyes and an exaggerated shrug, he continued. "It wasn't the Water Spirit."

Rin laughed, a quick, harsh sound. "And what do you want me to do about it, huh? It's not like I'm any good in the temple _now_." He started walking backwards, quirking his brows carelessly. "So Makoto saw something big and scary and needs someone to protect him. So _what_? That isn't _my_ job."

It stung, to hear Rin speaking so callously. Haruka trailed after, feeling at once his irritation rising up and, at the same time, a slinking sense of guilt. Was it his fault that Rin hadn't been chosen? Was it because of him that Rin hadn't taken his rightful place as a knight? Certainly the redhead had been ready for it; he was powerful and capable and his affinity for the water was higher, even if it wasn't as advanced as Haruka's. He had been the ideal candidate, comfortable with both attack and defense and not afraid to use his abilities to advance his goals. Why _hadn't_ Rin been chosen?

Rin must have seen the confusion pass over his face; his lips drew back, but it wasn't a smile; there was too much threat behind it for one of his silly grins – if anything, it was almost serious enough to be a snarl. "What, you don't get it Haru? Tch. I should have known as much. Just leave me alone and go find your precious _priest_."

"What's _wrong_ with you?" Haruka said, falling back on his earlier words. "It's _Makoto_."

The redhead turned, looking at Haruka only out of the corner of his eyes. " _Of course it is_." He couldn't move, paralyzed by the other boy's glare. There was a slightly manic gleam in his eyes, and Haru wondered – just for a moment – if he was possessed. Maybe the demon spirit had moved from the temple to follow them to the surface? That was possible. Not probable, but it was _possible_. What else could account for so drastic a personality change? "Ugh. I don't have time for you, Haru- _chan_. Go find someone else to laugh at."

This time, he let Rin walk away, staring hard at the other's retreating back. Haruka stood in place until Rin was completely out of sight.

He couldn't help it. The thought clawed its way into his head, unbidden. _Had the Water Spirit made a mistake_?

It felt like something was trying to reach for him, the moisture in the air or the waves out at sea. Haruka shook the feeling off and frowned up the hill. This was no time to be sentimental or irritated. Makoto needed him more than anyone else now – and not just because he had been so terrified in the temple; now it was because he was their _priest_ , and no harm could befall him under Haru's vigilant watch. Rin's lack of support couldn't stop him from making sure Makoto wasn't terrorized by some water-dwelling demon.

So Haruka continued up the hill, pensive and brooding and resisting the urge to look over his shoulder and give in to the water's persistent tug.

* * *

He stood in the doorway of the shrine, listening to the chimes ring in the gentle wind and the quiet drip of water from the fountain.

The lanterns that adorned the shrine hadn't yet been lit, but they were strung in long rows from the roof. The scent of salt in the air was stronger here, though that could have been because of the incense burning on either side of the doorway. Haruka stood at the threshold; a walking path, worn by the years of use, ended abruptly at the shrine's door. The floor inside the shrine was smooth, seamless tile, cool enough that there was a temperature difference between the warm sun outside and the dim interior.

Haruka hesitated only because he could feel the familiar presence of his best friend farther inside the shrine. Makoto's energy was flickering and slight, like a ripple on a smooth lake, disturbing the energy of the shrine in undulating patterns as it rose and fell. Maybe the magic was responding to his breath; Haruka breathed in deeply, clenching his fists at his sides and trying to gauge if the same thing was happening for him.

When he couldn't immediately tell, Haruka held a quick debate with himself. He could either risk the town's disapproval by seeing his priest before the ceremony, or he could slink back the way he had come.

A tendril of Makoto's magic, hazy and languid, crawled along the tile floor. Haruka stared, almost entranced as it formed into a hand and offered itself. There was no way Makoto's magical control was advanced enough to do something like that, especially not from a distance. Regardless, Haruka put his hand in the water magic's odd appendage and allowed himself to be led further into the small shrine. It was reminiscent of the way that Makoto always offered him a hand, and he was comforted by the notion. Decision made for him, he followed the literal magic trail.

There were only two rooms, though the inner section was set under the hill itself and the floor sloped gently downward. Haruka was always reminded of the Water Temple when he entered, and he felt the same sense of calm settle over his shoulders. Once he had traversed the short hallway, the watery hand dissipated, returning to the moisture in the air and walls. Haru examined his hand. It was still resolutely dry, as though the exchange had never occurred.

A single candle was lit on the altar to their water god; Makoto knelt before it on a small cushion, hands clasped and face slightly upturned. The candlelight flickered over his features, adding shadows – and for a moment, he didn't look at all like himself. Then, as though startled to sense another person in the room, he snapped to attention and whipped his head around – and the shadows were gone; it was Makoto again, all green eyes and an exaggerated startle.

"H-Haru-chan!" he said, mouth trembling into a smile. "Have you…" He paused, looking past him, and continued only when he seemed satisfied that there was no one else. "Have you been there long?"

"No." Haruka stepped into the room completely. The smell of incense was stronger here, and although no wind reached this far into the shrine, the smell seemed to permeate every corner.

Makoto didn't rise. Instead, he only looked sheepish, like he had been caught in the middle of doing something – well, something else, not praying in the shrine. Haruka took a cushion from the stock in the corner and set it down next to the other boy; he took a seat and stared at the candle's flame for a long moment.

When he didn't immediately speak, Makoto turned back to his prayer. Haruka watched him; as he always did, the brunet's lips were moving slightly as he mouthed words. It was familiar and, in a way, endearing – and he stared until Makoto's eyes fluttered open again.

"Ah? Haru-chan? Is there something you needed?" Makoto asked finally, shifting to face him. "Aren't you… not supposed to be here?"

"I don't need anything. But I'm not."

He wasn't sure if Makoto understood what he was trying to say, but the brunet laughed and shook his head. It wasn't his usual laugh; if anything, Makoto sounded tired and strained. "I wanted to talk to the Water Spirit. Were you… looking for me?"

Haruka quirked a brow, expression blank. "Of course I was. Who else would I look for?"

A slight flush bloomed over Makoto's cheeks, and he looked away. "Right."

They sat in silence for a few more moments. Haruka rose to light a candle of his own; he clasped his hands over it, sending up a quick offering to the Water Spirit. He had never asked for much, just protection and favor for those he was close to, and this time, he felt as though the spirit was in the room with them, listening avidly to his concerns. Whatever had spooked Makoto, he thought, hoping the spirit could hear him, needed to be dealt with. Whatever the Water Spirit wanted them to do, whatever task or quest, taking care of the demon in the depths needed to come first.

He sat back down, staring straight ahead. "I don't know anything about demons."

"What? What are you talking about, Haru-chan?" Makoto replied almost immediately.

Haruka gave in to the urge to roll his eyes this time. "Don't be stupid," he said, only realizing they were the same words he had spoken to Rin earlier after he had said them. He held his breath – but when Makoto's only response was a slight laugh, he relaxed. "You were attacked by a demon. I don't know anything about demons." He paused. "So we should find out what it was first so we can decide what to do about it."

Makoto gave another laugh, trailing off into a quiet cough. "O-oh, of course! I was planning to do that after… well, after I tried to talk to the Water Spirit."

"Is it working?"

The other boy's smile wavered. "Well…"

"Don't lie if it isn't."

"The Water Spirit said something – well, it tried… it said something about being too far. It was going to tell me what we needed to do, but then…" Makoto flapped his hands, the gesture slightly useless. "I don't know what it was trying to say. It wasn't in the temple… so I thought maybe here?"

"And here isn't working, either," Haruka finished the sentence for him, staring at the pair of candles that adorned the altar. "Maybe after the ceremony?"

"That's what I thought, too, but…" Makoto's hands clenched on his knees, and he looked down suddenly, expression downcast. "Haru… What if the Water Spirit doesn't ever respond?" There was an unspoken worry there; a _what if_ that Haruka couldn't quite hear. Sometimes it felt like Makoto could read his mind, and other times, Haru felt like he was woefully in the dark about what his best friend was thinking.

He looked at Makoto, looked at the concern in his eyes and the tight corners of his mouth, looked at the tension in his shoulders and the slight tremble in his hands. It didn't matter if the spirit ever responded, he wanted to say. What was important was Makoto's safety.

But that wasn't what Makoto would want to hear. The brunet, too invested in the safety and good of the town, of the world, of everyone who crossed their paths, wouldn't be satisfied with such a self-serving answer. So instead, Haru sighed through his nose and shook his head. "It'll respond," Haruka said with confidence he didn't feel. It must have sounded convincing enough; Makoto sat up a little straighter. "And if it doesn't, we'll find it."

Makoto's smile, as small as it was, filled him with warmth. There was relief in his expression, as though Haruka had said exactly what he needed to hear. "You're right, Haru-chan. I'll… I'll try not to worry about it so much."

They sat in silence for a few moments longer before Haru again spoke. " _When_ are you going to stop calling me –chan?"

The other boy's laugh, startled out of Makoto's mouth, was enough of an answer.

* * *

Before any of the adults and teachers could enter the shrine to prepare for the ceremony, Haruka had slipped out and headed farther up the hill to wait. They had passed almost the entire afternoon in the shrine, speaking softly and magic brushing. It felt almost intimate, to be that close to Makoto and feel their magic responding to each other; he tried not to dwell on the thought as the town procession made its way to the shrine.

He also tried not to think about the fact that it had never felt that intimate with Rin. He had never felt… _flustered_ after training, unless Rin had said something particularly mean or their fight had gone particularly poorly. Occasionally, their teacher would scold them for being too focused on each other to improve with the rest of the class, but that wasn't embarrassing as much as it was just a fact. He and Rin had become accustomed to being a pair, the only ones with compatible magics, and Haruka had been so _used_ to feeling the redhead's presence that it wasn't weird when it was there, only when it wasn't.

It wasn't like the feeling of Makoto's magic, either, though Haruka couldn't imagine why. He and Makoto had been together as children, and they were always together outside of school. He was constantly at the Tachibana house for dinner, and Makoto was constantly walking up his steps to tell him good morning and to gently remind him to take a lunch.

But Makoto as his priest – _his_ priest – was different. Haruka couldn't quite put his finger on why, at least not yet, so he tried to put it from his mind. The procession was slow, but it was also colorful, and he entertained himself by watching it until the signal was sent up for him to make himself known to the town as their knight.

Water magic expanded upward and outward, filling the sky with an intricate display. Droplets rained down upon those in attendance; he swore he could hear Nagisa's laughter amongst the chatter.

Some of the voices were louder than others. He heard, even after the afternoon had passed, expressions of doubt at the chosen priest. Why had Makoto, of all people, been chosen? Was it a mistake? Was there something they had missed after all these years? The boy who was afraid of water – what kind of sign could this be?

It was a relief to know that no one had seen him enter or exit the shrine, perhaps due to the fact that he was better than most at concealing his magic. It was impossible to hide magical presence completely, though, and a skilled sense could have picked him out. He found himself hoping vaguely that Rin hadn't stuck around, and if he had, wouldn't be interested in revealing his breach of tradition.

Haruka emerged, and the crowd parted for him. He entered the shrine again, eyes fixed straight ahead; he didn't want to see the expressions of those around him – not the wonder, not the pride, and definitely not that odd admiration. He had never thought that _he_ would be the knight. He had expected – well, Haruka had never given much thought to fantasize about the future – but he had _expected_ to be where his priest was now. He tried not to think about it as he approached Makoto, who was garbed only from the waist down to bare his new tattoos. There were many more candles lit now. The current arch mage, Tamura Shizue, an old woman with kind eyes, stood before the altar.

He took his place next to Makoto, eyes sliding sideways for only a moment. The candles' wavering light threw shadows again over Makoto's body, but this time, it served only to sharpen the definition of his muscles and the tension in his shoulders. He looked to the brunet's face instead, trying to decode his expression. Slightly furrowed brows, mouth set into a determined line, but eyes still soft. Haru wondered if the other boy had had any success in contacting the Water Spirit that he hadn't told.

"Tachibana Makoto," she said quietly, and Haruka whipped his head around to keep her in sight. She cupped her hands together, and suddenly they were overflowing with water. It spilled over her palms but didn't touch the floor, instead floating midair as single droplets. "Chosen priest of the Water Spirit who governs our lives. You have been marked, and it is time to accept the responsibility that accompanies your title."

Her hands parted, and a perfect globe of water formed in each of her outstretched palms. All around them, magic sparked and danced, and Haru found himself entranced. The water around them was so beautiful, and he could barely tear his attention way when Shizue spoke again.

"And Nanase Haruka," she continued, "our chosen knight. To protect and defend, to keep our chosen priest from harm or sway. You have also been marked, and it is now that you also will accept your duty on behalf of our town."

He held his breath, expecting some sort of magical show, some sort of spark. Something. Instead, Shizue clasped her hands together. Tendrils of water reached for him, and he heard Makoto inhale sharply as water touched him as well. The water, cold but soothing, encircled his wrists before moving, connecting him in a trembling line to Makoto.

Shizue dropped her hands. "Face each other," she said. "The spirit will now bond you, and you will carry this bond until it deems you both unworthy candidates for carrying out its favor." She smiled, bowing her head. "The spirit has chosen you both. No one else may experience this bond in their lifetime; you two will be chosen and marked – connected. Please join hands."

Makoto's eyes were shining, but if that was due to the dancing light or anticipation Haruka couldn't be sure. Tentatively, he reached for the brunet's hands. Where their skin touched, his senses tingled and smarted but not painfully. Makoto's eyes widened slightly. There were literal sparks jumping between them; one landed on Haruka's arm, and he tired not to grimace, expecting discomfort only to find that it was only water. He offered a tiny smile to Makoto as not to worry him.

It felt a little cheesy, to be holding hands and staring into each other's eyes. Shizue rested her own weathered hands atop theirs, intoning, "O Great Spirit. Priest and Knight stand before me, ready and willing to serve you. Please accept these two as your Chosen and guide them in their endeavors." She fell silent, and Haruka felt his palms itch, the tattoos burning with energy.

His magic was drawn to Makoto, and after a brief struggle, Haruka let it go. Miho had explained to them once that touching someone else's magic without permission wasn't really advisable – if anything, it was a little inappropriate. A magic-based fight was one thing. Touching someone else's magic without permission, invading a very personal space, was different. But Makoto suddenly had so much magic, the way he had been inundated by the Water Spirit, and Haruka felt his own energy responding the same way. They were both overflowing with magical energy, a fountain that had been suddenly given all the water of the ocean, and even Shizue took a step back at their combined energy.

Makoto's fingers clenched around his hand in a gentle squeeze. Haruka's mouth quirked up at the corners. Their energy mingled, entwining and separating before returning. By the time their energies had returned to their rightful homes, his skin felt flush, a little too warm, and his pulse was picking up. Makoto's hands were clammy; Haru wondered briefly if the ceremony was making him nervous.

"Perfect," Shizue said when they drew away from each other. "You are bonded. You must both drink from this – the purest water that the spirit has to offer." She offered a small teacup; it looked barely enough for a swallow. "And that will conclude our ceremony."

Haruka did as told without question. As soon as he accepted the cup, it became heavier. It filled with water as though reacting to his touch, and he took a sip. Crisp and refreshing, the simple drink renewed his energy and his motivation. They would participate in the festival, as always, and then they would resume their hunt for the demon of the deep. He passed the cup to Makoto, who looked similarly confused at first.

The cup was taken back from them, and Makoto offered his hand with a slight smile. Haruka took it without prompting.

Then Shizue led them back to the procession waiting outside, declared them bonded, and the festivities began.

* * *

He couldn't find Rin again that evening, but Haruka would admit that after their earlier conversation, he wasn't looking very hard.

As soon as he and Makoto had been allowed away from the congratulations and the praise, the pats on the back and the exclamations of surprise, Nagisa had found them. Rei wasn't too far behind, scurrying toward them with a slight look of alarm. The festival had officially begun, and there were colors and lights and sounds all around them. Makoto, who had been quiet and subdued even when they were alone in the shrine, seemed to perk up and allowed Nagisa to tug him along, laughing at the blond's enthusiasm.

He couldn't get the dissenting opinions out of his ears, though, the chatter that had insisted that there was a mistake. Rin was supposed to be the knight, _Haruka_ the priest. Haruka himself cared very little for titles, but it was obvious that the rest of the town had been so vested in seeing their favored pair be chosen that there was unrest. Perhaps that was why Rin was upset. He _had_ trained his entire life for a position that was no longer available to him. Haruka pursed his lips at the thought. It wasn't as though it had been by choice – if he knew Makoto at all, he was positive that the brunet hadn't wanted to be marked a priest.

"And of _course_ we have to get something to eat because _everyone_ is going to give you free food tonight," Nagisa was saying as he led them through the merchant district's arched entrance. This year, it had been decorated with some advanced water magic; water coiled around the structure like ribbon, glittering in the light from the lanterns that were strung between the shops and over their heads. "Oh! We have to find Rin-chan and Gou-chan! We never got to meet up with them earlier!" A slightly sly smile curled the blond's mouth. "And don't you have to get something from the shop, Mako-chan?"

"Ah – it can wait, I'm sure," Makoto said quickly, and Haruka didn't miss the way the other boy's eyes slid in his direction. "The festival won't last, and the shop isn't going… anywhere…"

Rei stepped up beside them, peering over the accumulating crowd. "Look – there's a lot of squid this year." The food stalls that were set up were already attracting lines; there were groups of townsfolk, still dressed in their ceremonial garb, collecting and chattering.

This was what the festival was supposed to be like, all lighthearted fun, food and games. Haru couldn't bring himself to be enthusiastic despite the monumental nature of the year. A priest and knight had been chosen, and he was one of them. That was supposed to be something to get excited about, wasn't it?

A pair of girls passed, hiding their mouths behind paper fans as they eyed Makoto. _How did he get chosen_ , the one was saying, her voice dropping to a whisper. _Tricked the spirit_ , the other supplied, and they fell into laughter as they walked. Haruka felt his irritation rising and tried to quash it. It was none of his business what the town thought, so long as they didn't act on those opinions.

The sun was already setting, and it felt like the day had passed much too quickly. Then again, it really felt as though it had been several days, not just one; the fear he had felt in the early afternoon, adrenaline coursing through him at Makoto's disappearance, the relief upon his return, and the discomfort at the suggestion of a monster. The disbelief at the Water Spirit's choice and its lack of appearance. The warmth, spreading through his chest and coloring his cheeks, at the brush of Makoto's magic and his skin.

Rei looked at him sharply, glasses glinting with reflected light from the lanterns. "Haruka-senpai… Your magic is…"

"It's hard to get used to," Haruka said by means of reply, trying not to sound too irritated. The amount of magic he now had to control, to confine to his physical body as not to offend anyone's more delicate sensitivities, was still overwhelming. Makoto hadn't seemed to mind in the shrine, but then again, Makoto's magical senses were not the best. "I'll work on it."

The other boy pushed his glasses a little farther up his nose. "I just don't want anyone to get the wrong impression from you."

Nagisa and Makoto weren't paying them any mind; the former continuing to chatter as he pointed out various stalls that he insisted they visit, and Makoto humoring him, nodding along and smiling. Haru knew what he meant; mages who were loose with their magic were not considered as proper as those who kept it tightly contained. It was culturally inappropriate, and he really didn't want to deal with anyone getting the wrong impression and approaching them.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Rei added quickly.

Haruka sighed, lifting one shoulder in a noncommittal shrug. "It won't be a problem after tonight."

He hoped Rei hadn't taken that the wrong way, what with the way the other boy's cheeks suddenly flamed, and he looked away, flustered. Haruka didn't bother correcting him regardless, taking a small amusement in the reaction.

"Ah, Haru-chan! What do you think? Should we get some ikayaki?" Nagisa asked, smiling brightly. "Oh, oh, maybe we should do some yakitori instead… I wonder if it's more expensive! There really is a lot of squid this year!"

"Just squiddy," Rei said, fiddling with his glasses.

Nagisa barreled on. "I want to keep walking around! Here, Mako-chan and I will go get some ikayaki – maybe you two should go get some dango! We can meet back in five minutes, okay?"

"Nagisa-kun, we don't need that much food," Makoto protested halfheartedly. He seemed to be in much better spirits now that they had completed their bonding; he had been quiet and subdued before, but now he seemed much more vested in enjoying the festival. Maybe he couldn't hear the dissenting opinions of the townsfolk, the ones who were gossiping about what a mistake the Water Spirit had made.

Haruka made a noise of assent, even if he was slightly reluctant to let his priest out of his sight. "Fine. Don't be late, or we'll go on to the games without you."

"Haru-chan!" Nagisa protested. "You _can't_! What will people say if they see you without Mako-chan?"

Makoto was looking at him, that familiar smile back on his lips. "We'd better hurry, then! If you don't want Haru to leave without us. Oh – and if anyone sees Rin or Gou-chan, let us know right away!"

The entire afternoon together, Haruka had kept his conversation with Rin to himself. He didn't want to be the bearer of more bad news and say that Rin was probably avoiding them , but perhaps they could still find Gou. The group parted, heading for different food stalls, and when they met a short time later, there was plenty to go around. Nagisa munched happily on a stick of dango in one hand and a steaming stick of squid in the other. Makoto was carrying the rest, a variety of snacks.

"I didn't think they'd give us this much!" Makoto said with a slight laugh. "As soon as they saw that it was me, he insisted that I take extra… I don't know if we can eat all of this!"

"Of course we can!" Nagisa said with his mouth full, taking another impressive bite of the dango. "It's so yummy!"

" _Nagisa_ -kun," Rei scolded, "chew your food!"

Makoto offered him one of the sticks with a smile. "Sorry. They didn't have any mackerel."

"It's fine," Haru said, accepting the snack and nibbling on it. "Let's go."

* * *

Once the snacks had been eaten, they wandered the games. True to his word, Nagisa insisted that they all try their hand at scooping goldfish. As they wandered, Haruka was sure he had caught a glimpse of red hair, but when Rin didn't appear, he tried to put it from his mind. They gathered around the small pool that held several colorful goldfish, and Nagisa declared that he and Rei would try first.

Haru stood a few steps back, contemplative. "The net is breaking," he observed, just to have something to say.

"Oh – you're right. It's okay, Nagisa-kun! I really don't need any goldfish," Makoto laughed, shaking his head. Then he turned, catching sight of something at another game. "Look! There's Gou-chan."

Gou, accompanied by another girl he recognized from the magic school with her hair piled on top of her head, immediately hurried over to them. "Makoto-kun! Wow, I haven't seen you since this morning! Your marks are so vivid!" She smiled, tugging her friend closer. "This is my friend, Hanamura-chan. You haven't happened to see my brother, have you?"

Makoto looked slightly puzzled for a moment. "No, I haven't… None of us have, I think. At least, not at the festival."

The redhead looked slightly distressed. "Oh… Well, I was hoping to find him with you! He hasn't come home since the temple this morning. I've been looking all over for him. Okaa-san is really worried. After he didn't get chosen…"

"He's fine," Haru interrupted. He hesitated only for a moment before continuing. "I saw him earlier."

Makoto turned eyes to him, brows slightly furrowed. "When did you –?"

He was cut off by Nagisa's cheering. "Rei-chan! Wow, you're so good at this game! You caught two of them! Look, look, Mako-chan! We caught you goldfish!"

The brunet looked torn for a moment, as though he wanted to press for details, but when Rei and Nagisa returned, a plastic bag with two small fish encased in it clutched between them, he smiled. "You didn't have to, you know…"

Rei offered the bag with a small smile of his own. "We thought you deserved a gift, Makoto-senpai."

Makoto's cheeks colored slightly as he accepted the fish. They swam happily in the bag, back and forth as the water rocked. "They really are beautiful," he said earnestly. "Thank you…"

Haruka turned back to Gou and her friend. "He isn't himself. Don't look for him too hard," he advised. When Gou opened her mouth, looking ready to push for details, he shook his head. "I can't explain. He just isn't himself."

He tried not to think about Rin's anger, the cold and furious feel of his magic rising up around him, for the remainder of the festival. Haruka wasn't blind to the curious glances Makoto kept directing at him, but he did his best to ignore them, instead participating in the games with perhaps a bit more vigor than he would have normally. Gou and her friend tagged along, and the group entertained themselves with games and food until the sky was sufficiently dark and it was time for waterworks.

They climbed up a hill, settling in near the civilian school. It was a good view; the most experienced mages spend weeks crafting the waterwork show that would take place during the festival, and it was always impressive. This year, Haruka supposed they would try to throw in a little something extra because of the spirit's choice. They all sat, making themselves comfortable on the grass and Makoto taking extra care in making sure his goldfish didn't roll away. Then they made small talk until the first and smallest of the displays snaked across the sky.

He had to admit, they had really outdone themselves this year. The waterworks popped and flashed across the sky, magic dancing and shimmering in a myriad of colors and designs.

"Look! It's a dolphin, Haru-chan – I bet they did that one for you," Nagisa cheered.

Makoto hid his mouth behind his hand to laugh. When the brunet had replaced his hand on the ground, Haruka eyed it for a moment – it would be easy to hold that hand, to place his own on top of it, curl his fingers around Makoto's palm. They had separated after the bonding ceremony. Makoto had withdrawn his hand before they had approached the rest of the town, and Haruka wasn't sure why – he hadn't pressed. Makoto met his gaze curiously.

"Is something wrong, Haru-chan?" he asked, a slight tilt to his head.

Haruka frowned, shaking his head. "No. It's nothing."

He kept his eyes on the waterworks dancing across the sky but allowed his thoughts to wander. Finding the courage to hold Makoto's hand would have to come later. No matter how much fun they had had at the festival, there was still a demon to be dealt with, and that would have to come first.

Even with that thought in mind, Haru did hope that no one else noticed the frequency with which he looked to his priest. Makoto's expression was serene as he watched the sky, and the lights reflected over his green eyes. His tattoos, still bared, were glowing faintly, and he looked so much more at ease that Haruka almost didn't _want_ to think about the fact that something had attacked him. Still, it needed to be dealt with.

So Haruka allowed himself to enjoy the waterworks with the thought that come morning, it would be back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I literally could not resist using the "just squiddy" line.


	6. Current

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first chapter to contain sexual content. Don't get too excited - it's only a solo scene. This is only the first of many, though!

Makoto had tried to sleep after the festival with his mind burning with the knowledge that he was the priest, that he had been _bonded_ , and that there was a demon after his flesh, in some way or another.

He had been half a mind to ask his parents, when they had greeted him at the genkan along with Ren and Ran, if he could spend the night at Haruka's house. The ecstatic looks on their faces, however, when they saw his tattoos, still assuming that faint glow, and the way they ushered him into the house with his siblings, well, he just couldn't bring himself to actually ask the question. That was how Makoto found himself laying in bed, staring idly at the ceiling and very much alone, except for the goldfish Rei had won at the festival. They swam happily in a clear bowl, mere silhouettes in the dark.

Ever since the bonding ceremony, he had noticed that when Haruka was farther away from him, when their magic wasn't expressly touching, it felt like something was _missing_. It was an odd sensation to have, and it was a little embarrassing to admit, even to himself. Haruka had been his best friend for so long that it felt natural to have him close, but this was different. This wasn't just loneliness at his best friend being gone or feeling alone. This was a longing, a _need_ for his knight to be close, near enough to touch. As it was, Haruka tended not to stray far, especially when they were in a group together, so Makoto hadn't felt the need to bring it up.

Bidding Haruka goodnight at the bottom of the steps that led up to his home had been a struggle. Makoto had watched him climb those steps, frozen in place for longer than was probably appropriate. His magic was urging him to follow after Haruka, and eventually he would have to give in to the whim if their bond strengthened the way it was supposed to. Most records noted that priest and knight, bonded as they were in the Water Spirit's essence, did not marry or even show much interest in the company of others over the course of their duties. Was it inevitable that he and his own knight would be the same way?

Those thoughts, accompanied by the fact that the Water Spirit had remained decisively silent throughout his prayers, kept him blinking tiredly at the ceiling for a long time.

Somewhere between awake and asleep, he let his mind wander. His entire body felt exhausted, as though he had run a marathon or swam to the magician school and back several times. Was this what using magic felt like? It was a wholesome ache; Makoto was no stranger to sore muscles and overexerting himself physically, but this was different. Much like the Water Temple's magic, this ache was everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

Closing his eyes to try and get some sleep also made him slightly nervous. The memories of being held under water, breathing only at the whims of someone else, crushing thoughts of a painful death under the surface – those memories wouldn't go away no matter how hard he fought to push them out.

Was this normal? Wasn't the Water Spirit's priest supposed to be brave and selfless, charging in to defend the host without any thought to his or her own safety? He wasn't brave enough, afraid of the dark and afraid of the ocean and afraid to close his eyes and remember the stranger's grip on his wrists, dragging him to the water.

Again he wished he had been brave enough to ask his parents to spend the night with Haruka. If not Haruka, then at least with _someone_. It was embarrassing to admit to his fear, but it was a better alternative than a sleepless night alone.

At some point, his eyes became too heavy to keep open, and Makoto tried to relax. He expanded his senses outward, focusing on his new magic instead of on his thoughts. Weak as it was, still recovering from how much he had apparently used to fight the stranger in the temple, he could feel Haruka's presence a short distance away.

It brought more comfort than he realized; with the faint brush of his knight's magic against his own, Haruka's energy seeking his own as they met in the middle, Makoto was lulled into sleep.

* * *

Hands pressed to his hips, and at first, it was alarming – the imposter, was it back? This time, would he be eaten alive as the other had promised? A mouth followed the curve of his exposed neck, teeth brushing over his skin, a hot tongue trailing over the lobe of his ear.

There was heat and pressure, and a mouth pressed to his own, and when his eyes fluttered open, it wasn't alarming at all. Haruka, hair mussed and cheeks just vaguely pink, was watching him with an impassive expression. Wait, when had this started? Makoto had a feeling that he should be questioning the situation. When Haruka leaned in to kiss him, nibbling on his lower lip and tongue dipping into his mouth, it didn't really seem that important anymore.

The hands on his hips shifted him; their hips pressed taut, and a blush crept into his cheeks. Their kiss broke only to bleed into another, and Makoto wound his arms hesitantly around the other boy's shoulders, fingers tangling in his hair. Haruka obliged by leaning closer, and one kiss turned into another and another. It was wet and a little bit messy, saliva mingling as they explored, tongues brushing and tangling. Just the kisses were making his face burn, cheeks flushed and warm, and when Haruka shifted his hips and rocked forward, he couldn't help the quiet gasp the simple action produced.

Haruka's expression was curious, one brow quirked and a hint of a smile on his lips. He made no comment, merely pressed back for another kiss and repeated the motion; Makoto clenched his fingers a little tighter in the other's hair and tried not to pant.

It was impossible; hands slid against his body, smoothing along his sides and pressing over his chest. The clothes between them were too much, but he couldn't quite find his voice to say so. Haruka's hands slid under his shirt, inching over his abdomen and then higher. Fingers rolled his nipples, and he hadn't been expecting the touch; Makoto broke the kiss, turning his head away in embarrassment as his noise of surprise had nearly been a squeak.

Haruka's mouth closed over his ear instead, hot breath tickling moist skin. "Don't hide," he said simply, and the words were nearly enough to make Makoto moan outright. If he had been standing, surely his legs would have buckled by now. "Let me see." Teeth worried his earlobe back and forth, and a hot tongue traced the curve before dipping in, just experimentally. Makoto squirmed before realizing his mistake; their hips ground together, and his stomach twisted with sudden and embarrassingly strong heat.

A hand cupped his cheek instead, turning his head back. "H-Haru…" he tried weakly for the other's name. "Mmh – _Haru_ ," he said again, cut off by the other's insistent mouth.

Haruka didn't answer. After a moment, something brushed his chest – but it wasn't tangible, there was nothing there; both of Haruka's hands were cradling his face, elbows rested near his head, hips rocking back and forth and not nearly fast enough. Another brush and he realized that it was magic, that their magic was tangling in the same way that their tongues had; it made his entire body feel warm, too warm and achy, with that certain _need_ , with – he couldn't think, didn't really want to analyze.

His pulse was racing. Haruka was looking at him again, flush and vaguely excited. The sensation of the other's magic pressing against him was undeniably arousing; Makoto sighed out a shaky breath, a moan caught in his throat. Their legs tangled as Haruka dragged his weight forward, resting over Makoto's hips. He hadn't stopped that rocking motion, and the angle was better here, good enough that Makoto pressed his hands to the other boy's shoulders, hugging him closer and nails scrabbling ineffectually against his back. One of his knees was pressed to Haruka's side, and he whimpered as fingers splayed over his inner thighs, teasing sensitive skin.

Heat pooled in his stomach, stronger this time, and he was moaning into Haruka's shoulder, bucking up to meet those hips, desperate to feel more –

* * *

And then it was over?

Makoto gasped, consciousness pulling him from the dream all too quickly. His skin felt hot and sticky, mouth dry, and that achy need hadn't gone away. Haruka's magic hadn't gone away, either, or maybe it was his own? It was still wrapped around him the way it had been in the dream, pressing into sensitive spots and easing over his sweaty, feverish skin.

The brunet rolled onto his side, prickly embarrassment crawling over his shoulders. There was no way he was going to be able to get back to sleep, not with the way his sleeping robe felt uncomfortable and confining and the mere brush of fabric as he shifted made him whimper. Makoto wasn't oblivious – he had touched himself before, always making sure the door to his room was firmly locked and everyone else fast asleep. He had fantasized about someone else's hands on his body or soft and gentle kisses, someone pressed against him the way Haru had been in his dream.

The one thing he had tried his hardest _not_ to fantasize about – well, the several things, were his friends. Haruka especially; he had never wanted to subject their friendship to awkwardness for a night of make-believe pleasure. He hadn't wanted to distract himself by looking too hard at Haru's lips as he spoke or to imagine what it felt like to touch him. Would his skin be soft, or did all the soaking he did dry it out? Would his kisses be gentle, or would they be firm with teeth and tongue? Makoto couldn't help the thoughts now, not consumed with the memory of magic as it reached for him and he reached for himself.

It took a bit of maneuvering to find a comfortable position and to find some oil; when he had been younger, just the thought of touching himself had been enough to make his face red. But it really wasn't hurting anybody, and, well, it felt good, so Makoto had investigated, done some reading, and gathered up a few things to help himself along.

Hands slick and sprawled out on his side, Makoto pressed his mouth into a thin line and tried not to think too hard. He kept his back to his new fish; the glint from one's scales had made his face burn even hotter. They probably couldn't see, but just the thought that there was someone – something – else in the room made him feel awkward.

Makoto cast thoughts around wildly, trying to settle on something as he moved his slick fingers, touch gentle and experimental. Just simple stroking felt nice, and his head was already fuzzy from the dream and from the magic. He didn't want to think about Haru, not the softness of his lips and maybe the softness of his hair, too, fingers threaded through it, a hot, pink tongue darting out to –

Makoto gasped, clenching his teeth together and turning his head. Not appropriate. Not okay – but just the thought had sent heat coursing through him, a jolt straight through his stomach.

The harder he tried not to think about Haruka, the more difficult it became; the other's face, his body, pink cheeks, glimpse of a tongue, swam in and out of focus in his mind's eye. Makoto clenched his eyes shut, breathing hard through his mouth, panting as he stroked a little faster and then pausing, thumb moving in slow circles over his tip. He was too close – it felt too good to stop. He couldn't tell if it was his magic or Haruka's that was in frenzy around him, but whatever the case, the magic that caressed his skin made his body tremble.

He muffled himself against the pillow, eyes pinched shut and whimpering as he moved a little faster, bucking into his own hand. His slick fingers made the strokes easy and comfortable, and he did know all the spots that were most sensitive – a gentle squeeze there, a bit more pressure, a firmer grip, then a little faster, a little _faster_ , until it was almost too much to bear.

All too quickly, the spring coiled tight, tight enough to – he couldn't stop the quiet cry that accompanied his orgasm, body trembling and jerking with the force of it. His fingers came away sticky when he found the strength to move, and Makoto's face flamed at what he had just finished.

It took a few moments longer until he was able to get up – but it was much easier to ignore his thoughts when he scrambling to get up, move around, do some basic cleaning. Having to explain this to his parents in the morning would have been too awkward, even if they didn't know about the monster in the temple or the details of the bonding ceremony; after Makoto fixed the room up and lay back down, drowsiness overtook him.

This time, his dreams were innocent and his magic, the Water Spirit's immense magical presence, was sated.

* * *

Morning dawned too early.

Makoto woke to the smell of breakfast and the sound of his siblings' feet pattering over the floor, feeling slightly groggy. He dragged himself from the bed, intending to wash up a bit before he greeted his family; it took a few minutes to fill a basin with water (though he noticed that it took less effort than usual, as the water responded eagerly to his touch) and carefully wipe down, but when he had finished, Makoto felt considerably better. The memory of Haruka's face in his dream, cheeks flush and lips slightly parted, threatened to encroach on his thoughts, but he pushed it away determinedly and headed for the kitchen. It was a better thought than memories of death and drowning, locked away in the temple with a stranger.

He hadn't made it far before he had to do a double-take. There was Haruka, in the flesh. When in the world had he gotten there? It was hard to keep a blush from rising in his cheeks at being confronted by his knight so soon. "Haru-chan?"

Haruka was sitting at the table, legs tucked under his body and expression bored. "Drop the –chan."

His mother smiled from the kitchen, tending to a pot. "Oh, Makoto… I was going to ask Ren to wake you. Haru just got here a little while ago, and I didn't want him to be sitting by himself."

"It's fine," Haruka muttered, staring down at the table. His slight discomfort was unusual; Makoto wondered what was really going on. Haruka wasn't usually the one to show up at his house unannounced, either. "I don't want to be a bother."

"It's no bother, of course!" his mother tittered, waving with the wooden spoon she had been using to stir the soup. "Have you eaten breakfast yet, Haru?"

Haruka shook his head. "Not yet." He paused, and the next words were directed at Makoto. "I was supposed to tell you that Amakata-sensei wants to meet with us today." The way Haru looked at him – interested, the way he looked at water, like he could keep looking – made his skin prickle again, though this time it was with embarrassment. There was no record of a knight being able to read a bonded priest's mind, but Makoto couldn't help but feel exposed as his friend stared up at him. The discomfort, slight as it was, intermixed with the interest; a quirk of Haru's mouth, the tilt of his brows, the gleam in his eyes. "So we should go after breakfast."

Makoto smiled, trying to ignore the creeping feeling that Haru knew exactly what he had been up to the night before. Haruka stared back at him, unblinking. "That sounds fine… Do you know what she wanted to meet with us about?"

The other boy lifted one shoulder in an impassive shrug. He was interested despite his expression; Makoto could see the tilt of his head and the glimmer in his eyes. "I don't know. I think it has something to do with the spirit."

His mother had fallen silent in the kitchen. Makoto wondered if she was hanging on to their every word. "Because it hasn't…" Makoto tried to gesture what he meant, falling short as Haruka merely raised a brow. "I'm sure she'll be able to give us more information."

For all his efforts, there had been no further contact from the spirit. What other options did they have? Magical education included more details regarding the Water Spirit's presence and activities than did civilian education; for all he knew, they would have to go out to the middle of the ocean and ask the spirit to convene with them on a fishing boat. Priest or no, Makoto was absolutely certain that he wasn't okay with that. He liked his feet on dry land. The water's presence, while not as threatening as it had been before his Choosing, still held something dark. Makoto wasn't sure he was ready to face those fears yet.

And again, the thought came, unbidden. Had the Water Spirit made a mistake? Was it because he wasn't trained properly? Maybe the title should have gone to someone else.

There was no voice unfolding in his mind to comfort him. Haruka, mouth set in a thin line, looked at him from across the table as he sat down. For a few long moments, they didn't speak. Then, from the kitchen, his mother called, "Makoto? Could you get everyone for me? Breakfast is ready!"

Haruka rose to help his mother carry things to the table, and Makoto padded down the hallway to find his siblings. They were holed up in their shared room, sprawled out on the floor. The room was a mess; it looked as though they had been involved in some haphazard game. It certainly explained the pounding footsteps that had nearly woken him.

"Nii-chan!" Ran greeted, springing up and hugging him around the waist. She smiled up at him, her dark hair messy from sleep or the twins' game. "Good morning!"

Ren didn't wait for a greeting; he hopped up and skittered past them out the door, slipping a little as his socks slid against the wood floors in the hallway. "Breakfast!"

Makoto laughed, patting his sister on the head; she let him go to trail after her twin. Makoto stayed put for a moment longer, picking up a few loose articles of clothing and folding the futon that hadn't yet been put away. It was only partly to stall; he hadn't expected to see Haruka so quickly, and he hadn't quite come to terms with what he had, well, engaged in the night before. A dream like that… and he had…

His cheeks burned. Makoto stared down at one of the twin's discarded sleeping robes, folding it up quickly and replacing it in the closet. When his cheeks no longer felt too warm and his pulse had stopped racing, Makoto returned to the living area and joined his family and Haru at the table.

Haruka's eyes were practically boring holes into him with the force of his stare. Makoto tried to avoid his gaze for as much of the meal as possible. It was made easier by the fact that his siblings wanted to ask a million questions about their new roles as Priest and Knight. His father had gone ahead to the shop, and, with a slight irritation, Makoto realized he had forgotten to retrieve the journals he had bound for Haruka and Rin after the festival. They had been too happy and full to give much thought to responsibilities, which was exactly the purpose the festival was supposed to serve.

"Thank you for the meal," Haruka said when they had finished, setting his chopsticks down neatly. "I'll take good care of Makoto."

It reminded him again of a marriage; Haruka was paying his family respects before taking him out of the house. Makoto nearly smiled.

His mother _did_ smile, waving a hand. "Oh, I'm sure you will! Leave the dishes for me to take care of, boys. I know you two need to get going."

Haruka met his gaze, and he understood; it was time to go. "I'll stop by later, okaa-san," Makoto said. They left the table and headed to the entryway.

"Don't do anything rash without telling us first!" his mother called after their retreating backs. The brunet promised to try, waving at his family as they headed down the hill.

Makoto hoped he could keep that promise.

* * *

"You mean… there are more temples?" Makoto felt dizzy. There were more spirits than just the Water Spirit? There were more that roamed the Earth, subjecting the world to their whims? How many more? Haruka put his hand near the brunet's elbow, but his expression wasn't concerned, merely wary. Makoto was positive he had gone pale. If there were more spirits, did that mean there were more creatures as well, more imposters threatening Chosen acolytes? "Why… aren't we told?"

Miho looked slightly exasperated. "You would have been told had you attended the academy. Civilian school doesn't bother covering it in any detail. It isn't exactly relevant to a nonmagical education."

"Not relevant? That there are spirits just wandering around?!" Makoto protested.

"There are a lot of things just wandering around," Miho countered. "Some of them more benign than others. You know, the Water Spirit is the only one that likes to interact with us… The other spirits tend not to intervene very often; they like their distance." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "In fact, I don't believe any other spirits have been seen for hundreds of years. They have followers, of course, and there are more powerful mages like in any group, but really, the other spirits are in name only. There might not even be a Fire Spirit or an Earth Spirit for all we know!" She laughed, tilting her head. "But the Temple still stands. Besides, the barrier keeps out most of the bad ones!"

Makoto swallowed thickly. He wanted to find the Water Spirit, but leave Iwatobi for some strange, far off place? A Temple of the Elements? What would they find there? What if the other mages weren't receptive of his meager magical control and didn't help them? What if the Water Spirit wasn't there, either? It made him nervous just thinking about it.

"We'll go," Haruka said, eyes sliding sideways. "If there's nothing else we can do here."

Miho sighed, clasping her hands. "Unfortunately, the spirit has left our temple, and I can't seem to figure out why… Even Tamura-sama hasn't been able to determine what caused the spirit to leave so abruptly. It must have been present for the Choosing, but after that…"

"But it could be in this other temple?" Makoto pressed uneasily. "Where is it?"

The teacher offered them a secretive smile. "Now! I'll give you a map to follow, but you'll need your senses to guide you more than that. The temple will only appear to those who are vested in its appearance, so I can give you only a general location. The rest will be up to you two. It'll be a good chance for you to train with all that magic, too!"

He and Haruka shared a quick, confused glance, brows raised and mouths drawn taut. What kind of mission _was_ this? They could be traveling endlessly, looking for a temple that didn't actually exist to everyone. What if they never found it? He supposed their task could have been worse. At least, Makoto thought, they didn't have to go out into the middle of the ocean on a fishing boat.

"Consider this your first mission as newly bonded! And don't worry – the temple will definitely appear. It's never failed for a priest and knight," Miho soothed. "I'll send word ahead to the mages there, so they'll know to expect you!"

When Miho disappeared from the living area of her home, where she had chosen to receive them, he looked to Haruka again. His desire to scoot a little closer and to reach for the other boy's hand was met with some resistance; the memory of his dream, of what he had done, still snuck into his thoughts. The thought of holding Haru's hand with the same hand he had used to – well. It just seemed inappropriate.

Haruka looked ready to ask him what was wrong. Before his knight could get the words out, however, Miho reappeared with a simple scroll in hand.

"Sorry! I had forgotten where I stored it," she laughed.

They exchanged another dubious glance, but neither commented. Haruka's expression was starting to border on uninterested. Did the prospect of travel not frighten him at all? Not even to a place that was supposed to have another following of the Water Spirit, a following that could perhaps point them in the right direction? Haru likely wasn't as bothered, he reasoned, because he felt close enough to the water already. Another acolyte wasn't going to be able to teach him or tell him anything that Haruka didn't already know.

Miho sat down, opening the scroll carefully and then spreading it across the table. It was deceptively long; the map unfurled, its words and lines colorful and exaggerated against their country's outline. Makoto scrutinized it, looking for familiar locations. They had covered basic geographic locations in school, though territories were constantly being re-mapped and re-named as factions and villages changed and formed alliances or absorbed one another. Iwatobi was marked in shimmering blue ink, and the spires of the Water Temple peeked around the word.

The teacher traced a different line thoughtfully. "This should be the quickest path… but you can see it, can't you?" Makoto leaned in a little closer. The line she had been tracing was not on the map at all – or if it was, it was some kind of spell. It wiggled and twisted on the page, scooting away from Miho's finger as she prodded it. "It'll probably respond best to one of you two," she added.

Haruka took the map without further prompting. As soon as his hands closed around the scroll, the line went rigid. A diagonal path was revealed, ending in a suspiciously blank area. The names of small towns and villages around it seemed to edge away from a circular region. "Here?" he asked, turning the scroll to display it.

"Somewhere around there!" Miho said cheerfully. "Like I said, you two shouldn't have much trouble finding it. I wouldn't suggest you leave today, but sometime soon. A proper pilgrimage will put the whole town at ease, don't you think? Ah, but I would recommend you go by boat. It'd be quicker."

"No." Haruka answered before he could, surprising Makoto with the force with which the other boy spoke. "Not over water."

That same flush warmth, the gratitude he had felt the day before, bloomed in his chest. Haruka was perfectly comfortable in the water. The only reason Makoto could think of for such an adamant response was because _he_ was uncomfortable. He tried not to smile, but the corners of his mouth curled up anyway.

"No?" Miho echoed, her head cocked slightly to the send. "Well… Whatever you think is best. It is your journey, after all…"

Haruka stood carefully after rolling the scroll back up and tying it closed. "We'll leave tomorrow," he said, and when Makoto nodded his agreement, he continued. "It wouldn't be a good idea to delay."

Miho smiled, looking a bit puzzled. "If you follow the map, there shouldn't be any trouble. The Temple of the Elements will respond to your magic in the same way the Water Temple does! 'Keep an open mind and an open heart, and…'"

Makoto got to his feet as well. "Thank you for your advice, Ama-sensei," he said with a slight bow. Whatever quote their teacher had had prepared was forgotten as she smiled and nodded. "We really do appreciate it."

"Be safe!" she waved from the living area as they moved to the genkan to remove their borrowed slippers and replace their own shoes. "And remember, the water is kind to those who are kind in turn!"

As Haruka tucked the scroll away and they left Miho's home, he couldn't help but wonder what that was supposed to mean. The water is kind to those who are kind in turn? Were they supposed to be nicer to the Water Spirit? Were they supposed to give the water compliments and hope that it returned the favor by protecting and guiding them? Haruka didn't seem to care about the parting words; he strode with purpose toward the market. They needed supplies if they were going to undertake some great journey, and Nagisa and Rei still needed to be clued in. They had made plans to meet, and it would be rude to keep them waiting.

What kind of spirit chose undertrained teenagers to carry out some great mission? Makoto couldn't stop the thought from welling up.

 _No thanks for the riddles_.

* * *

Their foray through the merchant district was brief but effective – yet the entire time, Makoto couldn't help glances to Haru's dangling hand. The Water Spirit's magic had settled over his skin, pooling around his shoulders and draping itself over his body, and it tried to urge him forward, to be brave, to take that step closer and take Haruka's hand.

As they gathered up supplies, food to take with them and other things to ease the journey, Makoto simply couldn't bring himself to go through with it. Haruka had glanced back at him several times, one brow raised in question. Makoto was familiar with that look; he didn't trust himself to reply and had shaken his head mutely. As usual, Haruka didn't press.

They collected a variety of things. Horses would be too expensive, and it would take too much effort to find suitable food sources for the animals as they traveled and an even larger hassle to take grain with them, so they resolved to walk. It would take longer, but that meant Makoto could try his hand at controlling his magic a little more effectively. For all Haruka's silence and stoicism, he was a surprisingly good teacher, and if they were away from the village, Makoto felt as though he could better focus on honing his new skills. As it was, he found himself constantly worried that he was failing to contain his magic. Several of the merchants they dealt with had graced him with odd looks, and while it could have been for a variety of reasons, Makoto was sure it had something to do with his new magical presence.

When they arrived back at Haruka's home, Rei and Nagisa were waiting for them. Makoto wondered briefly what had happened to Rin. It would have been nice to talk to him, too. He wasn't sure if the redhead could offer him any advice about controlling all his magic, but speaking to Rin would have been significantly less awkward than to Haruka. A simple brush of his knight's magic made his skin prickle with heat and embarrassment and sent his thoughts racing again.

Their two friends were in high spirits, and Rei was carrying a stack of books. Haruka led the way into the house, and once their shoes were placed neatly in the genkan, they headed to the dining room table.

"I haven't been able to find anything yet, but my resources are fairly limited," Rei explained, glancing down at the books spread between them. Nagisa had helped before lying down across the tatami with a book open on top of his face. "I wanted to visit your family's shop, Makoto-senpai, but I didn't want to… you know. Have to explain." He shrugged, almost awkward as he adjusted his glasses.

"No, I understand," Makoto nodded, leaning back on his hands. "I haven't told them yet… I'll tell them that we're going to this Elements place, but I don't want to tell my parents about the demon…"

Nagisa lifted the book only slightly to speak. "Why not? 'S not like they'd be mad at you or anything for not telling them!"

Makoto shrugged, feeling a little sheepish. "I don't want them to worry… It's enough that all this is so unexpected."

The blond made a noise that sounded like a laugh, muffled as it was by the book, but didn't comment.

Rei picked up one of the tomes from the table and flipped through it, settling on a page in which he had stuck a folded piece of paper. "Makoto-senpai… Can you give us any information about what the… creature you saw, what it looked like?" He ran his finger along the page, scanning a passage. "It says here that there are many creatures who can take on human forms… I would be surprised if we could narrow it down without seeing a true form or something like that."

The thought made Makoto's stomach twist anxiously. Haruka was looking at him from across the table, brows drawn in and mouth pinched in a frown. Memories threatened to creep back up, the same way they had in the dark of his room the night before. But this was daytime, and he was surrounded by friends, and – a fact that he found slightly embarrassing – most importantly, _Haru_ was here. His knight wouldn't let something happen to him.

"Well… It was a man's body. He had… blue hair, I think, and blue eyes? It was kind of hard to see," Makoto admitted, sheepish. "Um. Really tall. He had sharp teeth, and his mouth…" He tried not to shudder, gesturing to his cheeks. "His smile went past… up to here, I think."

Nagisa had pushed himself up to his elbows to listen. "Weird! Sharp teeth, like Rin?"

Makoto hadn't even considered the fact that the stranger's smile had reminded him of Rin's. "I guess so… But not like Rin." Rin's smiles were all boyish charm or snarky energy. The stranger's had been dark and dangerous, unspoken promises of a painful death at the points of those teeth. "It kind of looking like he had trouble keeping a human body."

He remembered the re-forming of those limbs, first as water and then as the strange fog. Most towns were warded against magical creatures and their influence, especially Iwatobi. How had the demon slipped past their defenses?

"Anything else?" Rei asked, flipping through a different book.

"I… don't remember…" Makoto said uneasily. "It was dark, and…" _And I was terrified_ , he wanted to say.

Haruka spoke next, which surprised him. "There was a white robe." Both Nagisa and Rei turned to look at him. "If that means anything." Haruka stood, padding to the kitchen. "I'm going to make some tea."

"That could mean anything," Nagisa complained, flopping back down to the tatami. "You're no help, Haru-chan!"

All he got for an answer was the clang of pots and pans as Haruka rustled around. Makoto wondered if he was doing that on purpose; all he needed for tea was the kettle, and for the sake of organization, he usually kept it near the fire.

"I can't find any information on this Temple of the Elements, either," Rei interrupted, setting a heavy book down on the table. "It's been mentioned a few times, but no one seems to know anything about it."

"Can't we come with you?" Nagisa whined, peeking again from under the book. "It'd be more fun! And maybe we could help you!"

"No," Makoto said gently, "I don't think that would work. This is supposed to be like a pilgrimage. For a priest and knight only – besides, it might be dangerous."

That didn't seem to put Nagisa off at all; if anything, he looked even more excited. "So?" the blond pressed. "Me an' Rei-chan would be _excellent_ additions to the team."

Makoto laughed, shaking his head. "Ah, I don't think so, Nagisa-kun… Ama-sensei was pretty clear. We're supposed to go by ourselves… otherwise, I don't think the temple will appear for us."

"That's interesting," Rei murmured, speaking half to himself. "Wouldn't appear…"

Nagisa pulled the book from his face with a huff. "You're no fun!"

"None at all," Makoto agreed.

That prompted a startled laugh from Rei, and Makoto smiled. Whatever the case with this mysterious other temple, they would be fine. The Water Spirit wouldn't send them on an impossible quest; those were tasks better suited for faerie courts or other wild stories.

Haruka brought tea to the table, and they passed the afternoon that way. Comfortable conversation, tea and snacks, and laughter; Makoto found himself hoping that nothing bad would come from this journey to some strange, far-off temple while they were gone.

Fun as it was, no real progress had been made regarding the mysterious creature from the Temple, and it was that thought that Makoto tried to keep from recurring for the duration of the evening.

Haruka kept looking at him in that subtle way of his. It wasn't a full-on glance, but he could see the other boy's eyes sliding sideways, gauging Makoto's mental state or whatever Haruka really thought about. It was nice. It was comforting, even. It put him in an easier state of mind for some time after.

When they all parted ways that evening, heading back to their families, Makoto again wished he was brave enough to ask to spend the night at Haruka's. Then again, if nothing else, it would be much better to have _dreams_ like that in the privacy of his own home, his own room, where he could take care of the problem and never speak about it to anyone.

He retreated to his room later that evening, thoughts turning instead to the journey that awaited them the following morning.

* * *


	7. Undertow

Haruka could not remember the last time he had had a nightmare, but that night he dreamt of panic.

It was an emotion that gripped him with fervor; his pulse raced, his body shook, he felt on edge and alert, ready to jump, run, hit. Whatever was approaching, he was ready to face it, and his magic, feverish around him, responded eagerly to his adrenaline. He knew there was something. Something was coming. Something dark, something evil, something that would consume him whole and leave his priest defenseless and uncertain.

The dream played like a projection, like the lessons that Miho played upon the misty fountain on occasion. It flickered in and out of focus, colors bleeding into each other. Disorienting. Haruka tried to get his bearings. There was something coming. He knew it.

Something coming. What was it?

Water whipped past him, dampening his skin and hair and clothes. Was it sweat, a bodily reaction to the intense adrenaline pumping through him? Or was it really the water he controlled, attempting to ease his body in his fear? Haruka wasn't sure.

Darkness. Water dripped.

He couldn't see. The dripping stopped; with nothing left, he couldn't hear.

There was nothing except the empty blackness. He reached forward, fingers grappling with the nothing. It frightened him; he wasn't used to feeling powerless.

A whisper in his ear, a dark chuckle, _Makoto_ 's name. There was light from above, illuminating a dense fog. Haruka whirled around, magic sparking along his skin. He lashed out, a face forming in the mist in front of him. Nothing solid. There was nothing. He lashed out again, magic reaching farther into the gloom. Still nothing. He felt the panic gripping him like fingers on his throat, like hands clawing at his clothes, like gasping for breath. Was this what it felt like to drown, thrashing helplessly against an element that had a clear advantage?

There was a face again, but this time, when he lashed out, his fist struck. Mouth set in a thin line, a hazy man with stringy blue hair took shape. Haruka hit him as hard as he could a second time, fist striking the other man in the face.

A smile split those thin lips, teeth glistening and sharp. A single word, a name, _Makoto's_ name, fell from those lips.

Haruka heart his own heartbeat thundering in his ears. He didn't know who the man was, but he knew he was a threat. He pulled back, every fiber of his being urging him to turn tail and run. Whatever this creature was, it was beyond him. He pulled his hand back. His knuckles had been split from the blow, and blood flowed freely, dripping down his clenched fist.

This time, he listened. This time, he ran.

Laughter echoed in his ears, and he was drowning, pulled under the water by an undertow, a spiral, a whirlpool, spinning in circles, gasping for breath, head breaking the surface. All the while, the stranger laughed, teeth glinting as the light flickered. Haruka reached for the surface. His fingers didn't make it. The blackness closed over his head; he couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't move.

But he could still hear the laughter above his head as he was pulled deep into the depths.

* * *

He awoke with a gasp. The sheets were damp beneath him, and his bedding was in complete disarray. His magic was still frenzied around him, tugging at his skin like he was a fish on a line. Haruka pulled himself from the bed and found his legs unsteady. It took a few stumbling steps to reach his basin, and with a stroke of his frantic magic, he filled it with water.

The water's cool surface eased him slightly. His heart was still pounding, as though he actually had been drowning; Haruka dipped his fingers into the water, letting the cool liquid slip between his cupped palms and trembling fingers. Then he ran his wet hands over his face and neck, trying to clear away some of the sweat that had gathered there. His entire body felt sticky and uncomfortably tense, but all he could remember from his dream was Makoto's name, a whisper on some stranger's lips.

Was it the Water Spirit trying to warn him of something that would come to pass? Or was it the demon, trying to take over his consciousness to get closer to Makoto?

Haruka splashed his face with water again and then moved to replace his bed cover. As he moved around, the jitters in his limbs started to ease, and his heart rate slowed. Whatever had been so terrifying in the dream, whatever it was that he couldn't remember, it was over now.

There was still a lazy curl of Makoto's magic in his home, too; it was a thread that was likely still connected to Makoto himself. Haruka found it odd, but that was the Water Spirit's presence acting up, he assumed. Makoto had been inundated with magic, body overflowing with the stuff, and it was only natural that it sought out someone it was most comfortable with. As he laid himself back down, Haruka's thoughts turned instead to the way Makoto's magic had felt the night before.

It had been frenzied as well but in a very different way. He had woken in the middle of the night to the caress of magic along his skin, a prickle of foreign heat and pleasure. With the way Makoto had been acting for the remainder of the day, well, Haruka had his suspicions.

But they were only suspicions, and he _was_ tired. It took very little time for him to fall back into an easy sleep, and Haruka was grateful. They had a long journey ahead of them, and he needed all the rest he could get.

* * *

Makoto arrived at his house bright and early, a full pack slung over his shoulder and a smile on his lips.

"Haru-chan?" he greeted, stepping into the genkan and toeing off his shoes. "Ah, there you are."

Haruka was seated at the table, picking at a bowl of rice. He had little appetite but knew he should eat; who knew the next time they would be able to have a full meal? Mackerel was too expensive to take with them in large quantities, so he had fried some for his breakfast. He needed to keep his strength _and_ his magic up if he hoped to defend Makoto from some yet-unnamed demon.

"You can eat, if you want," he said by means of his own greeting, gesturing to the fish with his chopsticks. "I'll be done soon."

Makoto put his pack down and shuffled to the table. "I might… I didn't eat very much at home." He sat down, tucking his legs up underneath himself and looking as nervous as Haruka felt.

"Not hungry," Haruka observed.

"No… I guess I'm just worried," Makoto admitted. "About this whole thing."

He didn't want to say it, but he knew Makoto needed to hear it. "Me too."

The smile that bloomed over Makoto's mouth made his cheeks feel warm. "Ah… I'm glad I'm not the only one, Haru-chan. I guess I will eat a little bit…"

He dished Makoto a bowl of rice and offered it. For a few moments, they ate in relative silence. Makoto was the first to speak, looking up from his food with a slight frown. "Have you… packed everything, Haru?"

"Yes," he said with a halfhearted shrug. "It's in the kitchen. I was going to pack up the leftovers and bring them with us. It might be a few days until we reach the next town."

Makoto looked down again. "Right…"

Haruka sat up a little straighter. Makoto, mild-mannered and gentle and caring and cute despite his stature, was too considerate to say what was really on his mind. He had a rough idea; the brunet across the table had never left the city limits before. He had never had the chance to leave Iwatobi; a nonmagical education didn't require travel, and his family was not one to travel for the sake of it. When Makoto put down his chopsticks, hand resting idly on the table, Haruka steeled himself and reached for it.

"It's going to be fine," he said, voice wavering slightly despite himself. It was a step he hadn't planned on taking that day, after all. "We're going to be fine."

Makoto's embarrassed flush told him enough. "H-Haru-chan, I didn't…"

"You were thinking it loud enough," he said, retracting his hand with a huff. "Help me bring everything to the kitchen."

Haruka gathered up the plates he had used, trying to force himself to calm down. His heart was suddenly pounding, just like it had been the night before. The only difference was that this time, it was because he had taken that step and reached for his priest's hand. Haruka was reminded of his heart pounding the night before and spent a moment on it. He wondered briefly what he had dreamt about, what could have scared him so, but when Makoto followed him into the kitchen a moment later, rice bowl cradled between his hands, the thought was pushed from his mind.

"Will you put it there?" Haruka gestured to the counter. Makoto did as told. Haruka made short work of scooping all the remaining food into a single bowl with a lid and then storing it away. Miho had given him a pack that had a convenient ability to store more than it appeared to be capable of – it was a spell, she had said with a wink, which took many years to master. Haruka doubted it. Rei had looked up the same spell and had been able to mimic it perfectly on Makoto's bag as well.

When they were ready to go and putting their shoes on, Haruka spoke. "Have you told your family?"

Slight color rose in Makoto's cheeks, though he wasn't sure why. "Yes… I told them last night. They know not to expect us home for a while. I told Ran to take care of the stray cat who likes your steps…" Of course he had. Haruka nearly smiled. "But… they gave me a few things. I don't know if we'll need them, but in case we get hurt…"

"Right." It was enough of an answer; Haruka shouldered his pack and then withdrew the map Miho had given them. The ink flickered to life as soon as he unfurled it. "I think we should head this way first." He pointed; the sun was already rising in the sky, and it was warm and humid. "We can follow the road. It shouldn't be too difficult."

Makoto smiled. "Whatever you think is best, Haru-chan."

Telling Makoto to drop the –chan was on the tip of his tongue. Haruka stuffed the map away and said nothing instead, comforted by the familiarity of the thought.

They started down the path, falling into step beside each other. There were others on the street, but it was early enough in the day that they were relatively unbothered. Haruka stared ahead, squinting slightly against the glare from the sun. Its light was glinting off of the waves, and he was glad, for once, that they wouldn't be heading towards the water. All that light was bound to give him a headache.

Not that this trip wasn't a headache enough. He glanced to Makoto, whose hands were clenched tightly around the straps of his shouldered pack. It was probably inevitable that he was nervous. Haruka would admit, privately that he was nervous, too. This was a monumental task. He had never heard of a priest and knight being abandoned by the Water Spirit before. Or maybe he had, and his overwrought mind was conveniently failing to recall it.

Whatever the case, Haruka was glad he was not alone as they headed toward the city limits.

* * *

They stood at the edge of the barrier, side by side and silent.

Makoto swallowed thickly, throat working with the motion. "Do we just… walk through?" he asked, uneasily shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

This was something that no one ever spoke about, a topic that was strictly taboo among the townsfolk. The barrier kept out the monsters, the demons, the fair folk, whatever else wandered around the world unfettered by the constraints of human bodies. They were taught about these monsters in school and shown pictures of grotesque and horrible faces. Haruka thought that the most frightening ones were the ones that appeared, for all intents and purposes, simple humans. Those, Miho had warned them, could worm their way past barriers with silver tongues and charming smiles and could wreak havoc on small towns like Iwatobi.

The barrier itself was nondescript. Aside from the slight undulation of the trees past it, a slight discoloration, and an even slighter spark of magic along his hands and arms, there was very little difference. He wondered what it was like to walk through the barrier. Miho had always described it like walking through a gentle waterfall, cool and refreshing, except you emerged dry on the other side.

"I think so," Haruka said with a slight shrug. "It isn't supposed to hurt."

Makoto nearly smiled. "Isn't supposed to?"

"It won't," he clarified. "Come on. We're wasting time."

His priest cast a longing glance over his shoulder. "I wish…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "Ah, never mind. You're right, Haru-chan. We should get going."

Haruka observed wordlessly, but whatever avenue of thought Makoto had been pursuing, he didn't pick it up again. "I could count to three," he supplied, feeling unhelpful.

Makoto gave a slight laugh and a self-deprecating smile. "No, its fine, Haru-chan. Let's just go."

Haruka steeled himself as they stepped forward in tandem. True to Miho's word, the barrier felt oppressive, like a heavy rain or high humidity. It bore down over his shoulders, and Haruka nearly buckled with the weight. Was it wet or cold that he was feeling? Was he dry still, or was the barrier soaking him to the bone? Another step and he was past it, emerging quite dry and quite unharmed. Makoto stood beside him, expression bewildered.

He turned back to look at the barrier. It shimmered slightly in the morning light, but much like the other side, it was not obvious. When Haruka pressed a palm against it, it sparked around his hand, hissing and crackling a warning to his magic. It would let them back through, of course, but that would require a a simple incantation and creating a hole in the barrier large enough for both their bodies and their magic. Haruka was familiar with the task, and it didn't worry him as he turned away.

"I guess that's that," Makoto said, hands held up as though in submission. "Which way now?"

Haruka pulled his hands away from the barrier and took a moment to unfold the map. It was one thing to pass the threshold of the farthest they had ever been from their homes. It was another thing to spend more time than necessary on a quest to save the Water Spirit. Could the demon of the depths follow them this far, he wondered? Or would it simply move on to another favorable target while they were gone, hunting for someone with compatible magical energy? He felt a sudden stab of worry for Rin, who was still unaware of the details of Makoto's Choosing.

The ink again responded eagerly to his magic, pulling his thoughts back on track. Haruka traced the line with his finger, glancing up. "I think…"

"Look!" Makoto interrupted, sounding suddenly eager. From the map, a line as thin as spun gold and just as lustrous disappeared off into the trees. The brunet's fingers hovered just over it. "Is this… magic?"

If it had been anyone other than Makoto, Haruka might have rolled his eyes. As it was, he stuffed the map away again and pressed his fingertips to the shimmering line. It was surprisingly solid; for all his prodding, it didn't give.

"It's showing us the way," he said slowly. "Huh."

Miho hadn't mentioned anything like that to them. He found himself slightly suspicious – but also relieved; following a vague map over unknown terrain was difficult enough for trained professionals. They were just two newbies on their first pilgrimage.

Makoto started after the wavering line, suddenly confident. "We shouldn't waste daylight, right?" he said over his shoulder with a smile. "I wonder how much land we can cover before nightfall… I don't think I've camped outside since we were children. You remember? We invited Rin, and my parents came to check on us…"

Haruka nodded along, unable to keep his gaze focused on any one thing. They had left the thick of the Iwatobi town proper, and this was a type of wilderness to which he wasn't accustomed. Could there be danger lurking beyond those trees? They were out of reach of the Water Spirit's control now. They were beyond Iwatobi. Makoto was taking it much better than he had anticipated. But what would they do if something happened out here? How would they deal with it? The Water Spirit was missing and couldn't come to their rescue. Better, they were supposed to be _ready_ for this kind of thing. He didn't feel ready, and if the tense tilt of Makoto's shoulders were anything to go by, his priest didn't feel ready, either.

He hadn't realized that he had been standing still until Makoto slowed to a stop. "Haru-chan? Something wrong?"

"No," he replied without thinking. "It's fine."

Makoto didn't look convinced, but when Haruka hurried to catch up to him, his expression relaxed. "Obaa-san told me that once she went all the way to Sakai to trade… Are we going to pass by? She told me the town is pretty large…"

"Sakai," he repeated.

"Yes," Makoto said blithely. "She said it was very busy and right on the water. A harbor town, you know? Like Iwatobi would be if more people came."

"I like Iwatobi the way it is," Haruka said shortly.

"Ah, I do, too!" Makoto smiled. "I was just saying. Do you think we'll get a chance to see any interesting towns on the way? I know that we'll be safe camping outside, but I was just wondering…"

 _This isn't a vacation_ , he wanted to say. But a brief flash of the hurt look that would cross over Makoto's face made him bite his tongue. "Maybe. I haven't looked at the map very much yet. This should take us to Okayama, I think."

"I'd like to get something for Ren and Ran." They passed through a thicket of trees, dappled sunlight peppering Makoto's skin. "I think they're worried. My parents, too."

Haruka made a noise of agreement. The sound of their footsteps, leaves crunching underfoot, was dampening his ability to pay attention to their surroundings. When he tried to expand his magic to sense anything nearby, what he noticed first was the massive cloud that orbited Makoto. It was enormous; there was so much magical energy that it nearly threw him off balance. Makoto's magic responded to his own eagerly, lapping at his expanded senses and making heat crawl along the back of his neck.

Makoto continued on none the wiser. "I was just thinking… I made you and Rin gifts, actually, to celebrate when you were both Chosen this year. I left them at the shop. Do you think Rin would be angry if I still gave him his? I know _you_ wouldn't be, but… I don't want him to be mad. You said you argued with him, didn't you?"

He had to shuffle a few steps forward to gather his thoughts. The silence seemed interminable. "I never said that."

"You told Gou-chan that he wasn't himself," Makoto reminded him patiently. "So you probably argued, right?"

It irritated him a little bit that Makoto was so unaffected by his magical presence and so unaffected by the awkwardness talking about Rin instilled in him. It irritated him a little more that Makoto could so accurately guess what had happened. The creeping heat was stronger now, a steady tingle down his spine that made his skin prickle with discomfort. How could he have known that they argued? He tried to keep himself focused on the conversation at hand. What kind of gift had Makoto made? Something… related to books? Must be. Right? Or something else, perhaps? He couldn't draw his thoughts together coherently. Even reigning his magic back in did nothing to stop the heady buzz from coiling around his mind.

Makoto was still talking. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it. I know it must have been…"

"Stop."

"Haru-chan?" The other boy was suddenly worried. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

" _No_ ," Haruka said through gritted teeth. Stronger still the heat was; it was interfering with his ability to string words together. Was this what Makoto's magic, frenzied and impatient, would feel like during – while they –? It was impossible to keep the heat from rising in his cheeks as well, eyes falling half-lidded as his rational mind was threatened to be overtaken by fantasy.

"No? Haru-chan, what –?"

" _Your magic_ ," he said, clenching his jaw hard enough to hurt. That, at least, was enough to make him more sensible. "It's _everywhere."_

Makoto looked suddenly sheepish. His hands were still clenched on the straps of his pack, and that expression, that embarrassment, looked out of place here, against the backdrop of trees and undergrowth. "I…"

"You don't have to explain," Haruka interrupted, terse in his frustration. The heat had stopped spreading, but now his whole body felt like it was buzzing with energy. "You didn't have magic like this before."

"Neither did Haru-chan, but you seem to be doing fine with it," the other boy pointed out with a slight frown. "Is it bothering you?"

Haruka offered a withering look, harsher than he had intended. He softened it with a sigh and a shake of his head. "We'll work on it tonight. You can't walk around with this much magic everywhere. You'll attract demons."

Makoto made a strangled noise that sounded almost like a laugh. "Oh… I didn't realize," he said, voice trailing off into a murmur. "I'm sorry."

He kept the real reason to himself. There was no need to embarrass Makoto further.

They started walking again a few moments later. The tattoos that trailed down the back of Makoto's neck disappeared into the collar of his robes, and Haruka found himself unable to look away. He allowed himself a brief moment of abject staring, wondering what it would be like to taste those tattoos and feeling appalled at himself, before he picked up the pace and fell into step beside his friend again. This time, Makoto was quiet. Only the sound of their footsteps accompanied them.

There was no clear path through the trees that they could find, at least not right away. Sections of dirt were packed down from the many feet, human or creature alike, that had passed over it. Several times more Haruka consulted the map and their glowing guide to make sure they were still on the right track; the inky lines reoriented themselves to what Haruka assumed to be their current location every time he checked the map. The trees were endless; who knew how long they would be wandering this forest? Weren't there rumors of a forest that continued on forever if its guardian wasn't appeased? That was supposed to be far north, though, and when the light began to fade from the trees, he felt a little better. If the stories were to be believed, time didn't pass normally in enchanted forests.

Makoto did not bring up Rin again. He did, however, speak at length of the places his parents had told him, towns that were far from Iwatobi, the capital of their country, of their rulers and the feudal lords, the goods sold, the exotic food. Haruka contributed where necessary, but for the most part, as usual, he let Makoto carry a majority of the conversation. It seemed to do the brunet some good; there was a spring in the other's step that hadn't been there before. It was kind of cute.

So the morning bled into the afternoon.

* * *

"But… the path says to go this way?" Makoto canted his head to one side, mouth drawn into a tiny frown. "Shouldn't we stick to it?"

"But there's water this way," Haruka protested flatly. "I can hear it."

"Haru-chan," Makoto said patiently. "We shouldn't make unecessary stops, right? We're supposed to get to the temple as quickly as possible."

He set his mouth into a thin line. "We need fresh water to take with us."

"Haru-chan can just pull water from the air," his priest said pointedly.

"It isn't the same," Haruka insisted. "It isn't far. Maybe five minutes."

Makoto's resolve was crumbling; he knew his friend too well. Makoto _did_ like to give him what he wanted. Wait. Where was that thought going? "Well…"

"We're going." Haruka set off with purpose, the opposite direction from the insistent magic that was guiding them.

"H-Haru! Wait!" Makoto called after his retreating back, scrambling to catch up with him.

The presence and sound of water, a rush in his ears and in his head, was a welcome relief next to Makoto's stifling magical presence. Haruka allowed his senses to guide him. The water reached for him, and by the time he found himself standing at the banks of a sandy river, the need to submerge himself was too much. Haruka pulled his top over his head, tossing it aside along with his pack, and then waded into the water.

Makoto stumbled onto the bank only a moment later. "Haru," he groaned, a hand over his eyes. "What are you _doing_?"

Haruka turned to face his priest, walking backwards into the moving water. The current wasn't strong, and the water was cool against his sweaty skin. "Swimming," he said simply.

Makoto's gaze was unfocused as he stared at the water. "Well, _yes_ ," he frowned. "Haru, we're supposed to get going!"

"You don't want to get to that temple," Haruka said knowingly. "So why are you pushing?"

Makoto's cheeks flamed, and he dropped his pack to the ground beside Haruka's. "I… I don't want to stall. What if something happens while we're gone?" He was struggling with the words; it was obvious by the way the flush in his cheeks had yet to recede. "What if the demon attacks the town, or… what if I can't figure out how to control all this magic?" Makoto sighed, bowing his head. The tattoos around his neck appeared to dance with the movement. "I just…"

"Everyone wants answers," Haruka said with a slight shrug, sinking into the water. It was cool and refreshing, and he was hyperaware of Makoto's eyes on his body as the other boy looked up. "Worrying won't change anything."

"But…"

"I _said_ it won't change anything, didn't I?" he asked, slightly impatient. "Get in the water."

Makoto hesitated. "Haru-chan…"

"You'll feel better," Haruka coaxed as best he could.

"Well…"

Would it be too childish to splash Makoto? If he was a little closer to the water, perhaps Haruka could have managed it. As it was, he didn't need to; Makoto stepped towards the water's edge, toeing off his shoes and placing them an appropriate distance.

"We can't take too long," he said, attempting to be stern. His furrowed brows and pursed lips definitely weren't accomplishing that; Haruka willed him closer, consumed with the sudden desire to kiss those lips. "We're supposed to be traveling…"

Haruka sank lower in the water until only his eyes were above it. Makoto turned around to strip off his shirt, folding it neatly alongside his shoes. It was rude to stare, but he couldn't help it. Makoto was tall and in excellent shape, and the way his muscles flexed as he rolled his shoulders was incredibly attractive. Haruka sank a little lower in the water to hide the heat rising in his cheeks.

When Makoto had finally waded into the water, hugging his arms to his chest and letting out a huff of surprise at the temperature, Haruka felt a little calmer. He had never felt so flustered at seeing Makoto undress before – but watching the brunet slide his clothing off, the way his top pooled over his hands, the way he bent to place his clothes out of the water's reach, it had sent his pulse racing. He tried to keep his thoughts from returning to that mouth or Makoto's well-muscled body or what it would feel like to run hands over his priest's skin or – well. It wasn't working as well as he would have liked.

Maybe it was the water's influence? The water magic that inundated both their bodies could have been urging them together. Or maybe it was simply the fact that Makoto's magical energy was a cup overflowing, and it had continued to overflow unrestrained since his Choosing. When Makoto got too close, lazily circling him in the water, Haruka had to close his eyes and collect himself for a moment as magic brushed along his ankles and then higher, a little higher, a little – he moved away, more annoyed than embarrassed. If he could stand to do it, he would have to teach Makoto how to control that immense magical presence.

Otherwise, Haruka wasn't sure he could be held entirely responsible for his actions.

* * *

After their impromptu swim, they continued their journey.

The golden thread that was lighting their way had dimmed, both in brightness and in thickness, but it was still solid enough for Haruka to follow with his fingertips. They covered more ground after the river; he felt refreshed by the water, hydrated and ready to continue. Makoto seemed a little dazed, if he was being perfectly honest. Like the water had taken over his thoughts. Haruka knew the feeling, but he had never seen the other boy act like that before. It must have been the influence of all that water magic. He did catch Makoto glancing in his direction a few times – and then biting his lip and looking away when discovered.

During a lull in their conversation, Haruka allowed himself to dwell on that image, the memory of the indents in Makoto's lips from his teeth. He tried not to let his thoughts get too carried away, but wondering if those lips would be soft did take up a good bit of his attention.

It was some time later, when the light had faded completely from the trees, and they were tripping over rocks and roots, that Makoto suggested they stop for the night. Haruka readily agreed; he had nearly twisted his ankle in a rough patch of ground, engrossed as he was in thoughts of kissing the back of Makoto's neck. He could see perfectly well, but better to let Makoto think he was still a normal person than to admit he had been so distracted by the glimpse of the other's skin above his collar.

Neither of them had brought up the fact that Haruka had taken his priest's hand earlier that day. It was a big step forward, different from the way they had clasped hands after the bonding ceremony, but Haruka felt like not talking about it was a definitive step back. But what if Makoto didn't want to talk about it? What if he thought it was just comfort, one friend to another, that sort of thing? Or what if he was just too embarrassed to talk about it because of the way his magic had acted those few nights ago, frenzied and insatiable? Something _had_ to have happened. Perhaps Makoto would bring it up when he was feeling more comfortable. Perhaps he should just wait.

So Haruka kept silent as he gathered up some stray foliage to start a small fire.

Makoto sat near him; the wind was blowing to the east, and after getting a face full of smoke, they had situated themselves side by side. They cooked dinner in relative silence, both exhausted from their day of travel and their foray into the river.

When they sat still and in silence, there was nothing to distract him from Makoto's magic slowly creeping toward him. Haruka could feel it tugging at the edge of his senses, a constant reminder of who was next to him and what they could – should? He shook that thought off – be doing.

As they ate, Makoto's magic got even bolder, sliding along Haruka's arms and legs. The sensation was prickly but pleasant, and it sparked goose bumps along the back of Haruka's neck. He didn't bother to bring it to his priest's attention. Makoto was blissfully unaware of the effect he and his magic were causing.

Once they had eaten – and before Makoto's magic could perhaps slide along his thighs or dip under his shirt – Haruka turned to his best friend with a somber expression. "We need to work on your magic."

He definitely couldn't be held responsible if Makoto's magic was so eager and so desperate to be close to him.

Makoto looked immediately sheepish, his gaze dropping to his lap. "I understand. What… do I need to do?"

Haruka scrutinized his best friend carefully. This was going to be difficult, wasn't it; he was a decent enough teacher, but it was going to be distracting if Makoto's magic was constantly reaching out to him.

"Take a deep breath," he started, feeling unhelpful. "You know the basics of sensing magic, don't you?"

Makoto's slight shake of his head was enough of a confirmation. It was going to be a very long evening. Rin was much better at explaining this kind of thing, and Haruka wished for a moment that he was there to help. Then the idea of Makoto's magic reaching for Rin the same way it was currently coiled around Haruka's forearms, well, it ignited a certain spark of motivation within him that he hadn't known he needed.

"Close your eyes," he said, and Makoto was quick to obey. "Concentrate on your hands. Hold them out together, like this." He reached for his priest's hands, cupping the other boy's palms together. "Now think about your magic. You know what it feels like, right?"

Even with his eyes closed, Makoto's expression was sheepish. "I… I think so, yes."

"Think about making something with that energy in your hands. A ball, maybe. Just something that you can hold." He kept a sharp eye on Makoto's cupped palms, waiting for a flicker of energy. There was a slight undulation of the air like a particularly strong heat wave over the upper districts of Iwatobi, but nothing solid. "Just pull your magic together slowly."

Makoto was quiet for a few moments. "I don't think it's working," he said softly, cracking his eyes open. "Am I doing something wrong?"

"Close your eyes," Haruka said authoritatively. "We aren't finished. Try one more time."

 _Try one more time_ turned into three times, then four, and by the fifth time, he could tell Makoto was starting to get frustrated. Haruka wasn't sure what to think. He hadn't expected Makoto to catch on right away, but this was so important. He needed to be able to conceal his energy at least a little in case they were attacked on the road. There was _some_ truth to what he had said; Makoto's immense magical energy was going to attract demons to them if they weren't careful.

Controlling magic was something children were taught usually from a very early age. It was easier when kids were young enough that magic was like second nature. As a teenager, perhaps it was harder for Makoto to conceptualize magic? Haruka wasn't sure what the problem was.

"Here," he said, breaking the silence between them. Makoto's brows were furrowed, and his eyes were pinched tightly shut. His face was just slightly upturned, lips pursed, and Haruka had to remind himself to focus. "Let me try."

He hesitated for only a moment before covering Makoto's hands with his own. With his senses expanded, it was easy to mold Makoto's magic to his will, though there was so much of it that it was almost overwhelming. His priest's magic ebbed and flowed like the tide, and it was hard not to let himself be pulled under and swept away.

"Ah! I…" A slight shiver went down Makoto's spine; it must have been powerful, for Haruka could feel the shake even from his slight contact with the other boy's skin. It made his own pulse race, that shiver. "Is that…?"

Whatever Makoto had been about to say died on his lips. The brunet opened his eyes slowly, unsure. There, floating between his palms, was a perfect circle of magic. It was emitting its own ethereal light, bright sparks of water jumping from the surface.

"I'm going to take my hands away," Haruka warned. "Concentrate."

"I'll… I'll try," Makoto promised.

He started to draw his hands away. Makoto looked alarmed for a moment as the sphere failed to hold shape without help and started to melt, dripping from where it floated to puddle between the brunet's hands. For a moment, Haruka was sure the entire thing was going to dissipate, but to his surprise, Makoto managed to hold on to a much smaller version of the ball. It was taking its toll, though; there was a look of intense concentration on the other boy's face, and his arms were tense and strained.

Haruka scooted a little closer. "It's _your_ magic. Make it listen to you."

"I'm _trying_ ," Makoto repeated through gritted teeth, brows knitted upward as though pleading with the magic. "It doesn't want to."

He cracked a smile at that, the corners of his mouth curling upward. _You're cute_ , he almost caught himself saying.

"I – ah, I can't – I can't hold it…" Makoto sighed out a long breath as the magic trickled between his fingers. "I'm sorry… I'm not very good at this…"

"It's only your first lesson," Haruka cut over his words with a sharp glance over his shoulder, half to disguise the slight flush in his cheeks. Makoto's magic was whipping around wildly, obviously discontent with being confined. As well as Haruka could conceal his magic, it was not enough to keep it completely separate from Makoto's. The brunet's voice, too, strained and wavering just slightly, was – well, it was going to make him uncomfortable if he kept replaying it in his mind the way he couldn't help but do. "You did better than I thought."

The other boy perked up slightly at the praise. "I did?"

"You have a lot of magic," he said by means of explanation, "and you've never had a magic lesson before. You have to start somewhere."

Makoto looked politely puzzled, as though he couldn't quite figure out what Haruka meant. Then his mouth split into a hesitant smile. "Well… thank you. I'm sure Haru-chan will teach me well."

"Don't say it like we're finished already," Haruka said, sitting up a little straighter. "Try again."

"Right!" Makoto said with much more enthusiasm. "I'll do my best!"

By the time they had decided to end their lesson, the fire had died down to embers and their makeshift campsite had gotten quite a bit colder. It had to be due to the cold that he had goose bumps, Haruka told himself, and not because Makoto's magic was still slinking over his skin, igniting a figurative fire along anywhere it touched. Makoto's own noises of slight distress were starting to go to his head as well. There was no way to keep his thoughts innocent with those little gasps, and that furrowed brow, and the tiny huffs that accompanied Makoto's concentration. They had made progress, but not nearly enough to make Haruka comfortable.

"We'll try again tomorrow," he said finally as Makoto cupped his hands together again, determined sparks flickering between his fingers. "If you use too much magic, you'll be sore. We still have a lot of ground to cover before we get to Okayama."

Was it his imagination, or was that a blush on Makoto's cheeks? The brunet turned his head away with a slight, embarrassed laugh. "Ah… You're right. I didn't think about that…"

Together they laid their sleeping mats out flat next to the dying fire and made themselves reasonably comfortable. The stars twinkled above them, and if it had been under any other circumstances, Haruka thought this might have been romantic. As it was, Makoto's magic was curling down around them, tired from being put through hoops, and it settled over their small camp like a thick blanket.

The trees around them were quiet. Haruka wondered for a moment if one of them should keep watch and then decided better of it, casting a quick, muttered spell to shield them through the night. It was a weak barrier, nowhere near as strong as that which protected Iwatobi, but it would wake him at the first sign of trouble, and that was enough. Makoto's presence was subdued, and it was comforting to know that his best friend was so close. He felt safe despite the apparent danger of their journey.

Makoto's voice, sleepy and soft, broke through his thoughts. "Good night, Haru-chan." And then, almost as an afterthought, "Thank you for being patient with me."

"Go to sleep, Makoto," he replied, just as lowly, eyes and limbs heavy with fatigue. "You don't need to thank me."

It took only a moment for sleep to pull him under.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't find a better stopping point for this chapter, guys. /dies from fluff


	8. Tide pool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once the semester gets into swing, we'll see how my time falls. Until then, fingers crossed that I can work a bit faster! Also, I've been sucked into HunterxHunter again, so there's that, too. If anyone can cry forever with me over Kaito? Yeah, that would be great. I just need someone who understands right now... /ugly crying

If there was one thing Matsuoka Rin hated more than anything else in the world, it was failure.

When Haruka had been chosen as the anchor for the spirit's arrival, he didn't take it personally. That wasn't a personal failure; he couldn't control who the spirit was most attracted to, and Rin honestly didn't _care_ who had the higher affinity as long as he eventually came out on top. But when Haruka had been chosen as the _knight_ , he had taken it personally. What did Haruka have that he didn't? Better, what did _Makoto_ have that he didn't? He could come up with nothing, at least not at first. There was nothing that set Makoto and Haruka up as a better suited pair than himself and Haruka, and he couldn't keep himself from the thoughts, as petulant as he knew they were.

Who cared about being petulant? Some talentless _nobody_ had just beaten him at his own game. Makoto was too gentle to be a priest, and Haruka didn't have the drive _or_ the ease with magic that he did. Rin was angry at himself – how could he fail something this important? How could this have happened? – but he was angriest at Makoto, at his friend, for stealing away the chance of a lifetime. The chance of _his_ lifetime.

Immediately following the Choosing, Rin had stormed off. He had been too angry to care that Makoto was missing or that Haruka might have needed help with his newfound power. He had been too consumed with thoughts of – were they really? – self-pity and his own righteous anger. His thoughts had turned from _what did they have_ to _how dare they_ , and for some time, he brooded in the shrine.

How dare Makoto take from him what was rightfully his? How dare he take _Haruka_ away from him? Rin had stewed in his anger for longer than he was willing to admit.

He hated the feeling; Makoto was his friend – Makoto _had been_ his friend, had supported him with those stupid smiles and that gentle voice. Makoto had been the one he had run to when Haruka had destroyed him in their mock battles, and Makoto had been the one to pick him back up and dust him off when times were rough and he needed the reassurance. Makoto had been the one to give him advice about how to deal with the feelings he had for some anonymous person – and Makoto had never questioned who or why, just listened patiently and nodded along and given helpful suggestions. Makoto had been nothing but a good friend to him. He had never been _anything_ but a good friend to Rin.

So why was he feeling this way?

Rin had stared hard at the flickering candles in the shrine, willing the Water Spirit to appear and explain itself, to explain its decision. No such thing happened.

As it always did, Rin's anger burned hot and bright, but it was quick to fizzle out. He sat in the shrine for long enough that his anger had had sufficient time to turn into a burning self-loathing instead. It wasn't Makoto's fault that he had been chosen. It wasn't Haruka's fault either, even if Rin resented them both for it.

He could handle resentment. What he couldn't handle was the thoughts of rejection. Would everyone cease to care about his abilities now that he wasn't Chosen? Would Haruka and Makoto disappear off into their own little world, excluding him from it?

He couldn't help but dwell on the fact that he was _jealous_ , and he knew it. Makoto was suddenly the one who had everything _Rin_ had wanted, everything he had ever dreamed of attaining. Makoto may have been the priest, but he had the title, he had the glory, and he had _Haruka_. Rin had planned his future around the fact that he would eventually be a knight, and to have that snatched away from him so quickly, so concretely, so _effortlessly_ , was too much to bear.

But Rin was no failure. No matter how crushing the disappointment, he knew better. He was not a failure.

The desire to improve himself was a strong drive, and all was not lost. The Water Spirit could still release Haruka from his bond as a knight, and as unlikely as it was, Rin hoped fervently that the spirit would realize its mistake. And what better way to prove himself more worthy than to beat Haruka at his own game?

It was mean and petty and stupid, but Rin couldn't find it in himself to care. He had been the top of his class, second only to Haruka, and if he couldn't do the job better, well, it would certainly crush his pride, but it would also lend a sense of closure that the Choosing hadn't.

It was with that in mind that Rin watched the bonding ceremony. Haruka had met him on his way back from the shrine, and he had still been furious, lashing out at one of his best friends because he felt weak and stupid and insecure. He felt bad for it afterward, almost enough to go back and grudgingly tell Haruka that he didn't really mean it and to ask how Makoto was holding up.

But he couldn't, not yet.

And he couldn't later, not seeing the way that Haruka and Makoto looked at each other. Not that surreptitious glance, stolen when each thought the other wasn't looking. It made him feel queasy for a while after, and Rin had fled the ceremony and the festival without a backward glance.

He tried to bring himself to be equally angry at Haruka _and_ Makoto, but the latter was much more difficult to justify than the former. Makoto hadn't taken away his title. Makoto hadn't beaten him in magical spars and hadn't shrugged at his ambition to become a knight. It was Haruka who had done all those things, and a burning desire to show his friend and sparring partner who was _really_ best-suited for the role of a knight kept him awake later that night.

Gou tried to talk to him when he met her and his mother in the kitchen the next morning. They were both worried about him, about how he was taking the Choosing, and Rin brushed them both off with a shrug. He didn't have anything to say to them, not yet.

But when Nagisa had found him at the edge of town, feeling equal parts sorry for himself and burning anger at Haruka, the blond had managed to smack, quite literally, some sense into him.

Just because he hadn't been chosen didn't mean he wasn't important, Nagisa had told him with uncharacteristic brevity. After all, wasn't it possible to have more than one knight? Wasn't it possible that the Water Spirit simply thought he wasn't _ready_ to protect its chosen priest?

That was how Rin found himself heading to Haruka's house a few days later. Stewing in his anger had proved to be a fruitless endeavor, and he needed something on which he could focus all the negative energy he had collected. And what better way to focus himself than to figure out the best way to prove his worth? What did Haruka have that he didn't? How could he make this situation work out in his favor? So he steeled himself for an awkward conversation and knocked.

The only problem was that no one answered.

* * *

"What do you mean, they _left_?"

"If you had come to Haru-chan's yesterday like I _asked_ you to, you would have already known," Nagisa replied impatiently, arms crossed over his chest. His trademark smile was gone, mouth pinched into a contemplative frown. "So are you coming with us or not?"

Rin crossed his arms over his chest, expression disgruntled. "Where are we going?"

Rei, standing behind Nagisa with a slightly warning look, was the one who answered. "We're going to follow Haruka-senpai and Makoto-senpai."

"And where are _they_ going?" Rin asked, offering Nagisa a withering expression.

"The Temple of the Elements, of _course_ ," Nagisa said, head cocked to one side as though daring him to question the answer. "Where they want to try to contact the Water Spirit."

The Temple of the Elements? Rin frowned. That wasn't usually a pilgrimage destination so early in the bonding process. It was a topic that was only introduced in their later years at the Academy, and he himself knew very little about it. Wasn't it supposed to be a place of general worship to all the elements, as the name described? A place to hone skill and magic related to any element, where acolytes met and mingled to exchange techniques and magical information? A safe haven in the harsh world of demons and monsters that roamed the countryside? It was _supposed_ to be all of those things, but for all Rin knew, it could be a shack in the desert.

Rin had seen it once, the dangers of the outside world. He remembered it as clearly as though it had happened last week instead of years ago. Even his father's magical might could not have protected them from some of the monsters outside. The idea of leaving the barrier was not one he was comfortable with, but what choice did they have? Haruka and Makoto had left already. If they could do it, surely he could, too.

"So you're following them to the Elements, huh," he said, more to himself than to Rei or Nagisa. "Seems like a stupid idea."

Nagisa's mouth split into a grin. "Doesn't it?"

Rei cleared his throat. "Someone needs to make sure that Haruka-senpai and Makoto-senpai know what they're doing… Makoto-senpai has absolutely _no_ magical control, and if they get attacked…"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Rin waved a hand. "Makoto's gonna get them jumped, and Haru will throw himself into some half-assed plan without thinking, and then what will we even _do_ without a priest and knight?" He had started out nonchalant, but Rei's disgruntled expression was enough to tell him that he definitely sounded bitter.

Nagisa shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking almost agitated despite his smile. "So? Are you in or not? We're leaving in a few hours."

What was the harm? He could follow Makoto and Haruka and maybe prove his worth to the Water Spirit along the way. Haruka wasn't the most observant, was he, and if they lost Makoto, they would be down both their priest and a friend.

And it wasn't really Makoto's fault that he had been Chosen, was it?

It wasn't. Not _really_.

Regardless of fault, Rin couldn't help the brief spike of anger at the thought. If there existed a way to prove himself worthy of Makoto's title instead, Rin would have jumped at the chance. As it was, there had never been more than one priest in any given epoch, and chances were slim to none that Rin could take a priest's place. Haruka, on the other hand, didn't _have_ to be the lone knight.

Becoming a knight alongside Haruka wouldn't exactly be the connection he was looking for, but it was better than nothing, and nothing was what Rin was staring in the face.

"Yeah. I'll come."

He didn't miss the furtive glance that Rei and Nagisa shared.

"Meet us back at Haru-chan's in three hours," Nagisa said with a slight bounce. "We're going to get some supplies."

Rin quirked a brow. "What, you don't want me to come get supplies with you?"

Nagisa was already heading down the path to the merchant district. "No, not really. You're in such a bad mood, Rin-chan! You wouldn't be any fun to shop with!"

Rei trailed a few steps behind the blond, offering only a slight shrug. "I'm going to go ahead to collect my notes."

"Right!" Nagisa clasped his hands and grinned, turning to take a few steps backwards. "Rin-chan, if you _really_ want to make yourself useful, why don'cha go find a temporary charm for us? I know you've got one."

"A temporary charm? Keeping something like that active while we're traveling would be stupid," Rin shook his head. "It'd take too much magic."

"Oh," Nagisa put a finger to his chin in what would have been an innocent pose had his eyes not been so bright. "And you can't handle that, can you?"

Rin's hackles rose. Was Nagisa _trying_ to press his buttons? "What's that supposed to mean?"

" _I_ don't know."

"Oi," Rei interrupted, slightly impatient. "Fighting isn't going to help anyone."

Nagisa broke eye contact with him and turned on his heel. "You're right, Rei-chan! Oops!" There was a pause, only for a moment as the blond shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Well, if you _can't_ get us a charm, I suppose I'll have to try and find one myself…"

"I'll get the damn charm," Rin grumbled, falling into step a few paces behind Rei and Nagisa. This had probably been Nagisa's plan all along; as usual, the blond was much better at manipulating them than he let on.

"I knew you would, Rin-chan!" Nagisa cheered. _Case and point_ , Rin thought sourly. "And we aren't going to keep it active all the time. I want something to keep us safe while we're sleeping, _not_ so we can be walking bubbles."

"Whatever."

"See? I told you I knew he'd agree," the blond latched himself onto Rei's arm as they started walking. "You never listen to me when I say I have good ideas."

Rei grumbled something that Rin didn't quite catch, and with the way Nagisa laughed and threw a glance in his direction, he wasn't sure he wanted to know. He _was_ sure that he didn't want to ask the blond to repeat himself. He didn't quite believe Nagisa's reason for wanting a charm, but Rin wasn't about to bring up that point, either. It wasn't a battle worth fighting. Not yet, at least.

They headed toward the merchant district in a small group, Nagisa continuing to chatter about how they needed to move quickly to gather their supplies and how Makoto and Haruka had had such a head start. When they reached the district gates, they parted ways; Nagisa kept tugging Rei along behind him, and Rin broke off to head toward his home. It had been a few days since he had done more than make noncommittal noises at his mother and sister, and if he was going to head off on some stupid adventure, if it could even be called that, he probably did need to say something.

So Rin veered past the merchant district, ignoring the murmurs of a few familiar faces about how he hadn't been chosen, and headed home.

* * *

"I'm home."

The house was quiet as he announced himself. He half expected Gou to skitter out into the hallway and yell at him for not coming home for so long or for his mother to come pattering from the kitchen, her tired eyes relieved and hair loose over her shoulders. When neither scenario immediately happened, he tried to shake off the feeling that even his own family was avoiding him because he had failed in being Chosen. Some of the townsfolk were avoiding him for what he assumed to be that very reason. After all, what point was there in associating with him now that he was just another academy student? Being second best or a likely candidate no longer held any worth when someone else had snatched away the title and honor.

A moment later, one of the doors down the hall was slid open with force, and Gou stalked out. Her hair was disheveled; it looked as though she hadn't even bothered to brush it. "Nii-san! _Where_ have you been?"

Rin, dawdling as he was in the genkan, carefully placed first one shoe than the other in a neat line. "Around," he said with an evasive shrug. "I'm home now."

Gou looked as though she couldn't decide whether she wanted to hit him or hug him. "Well, you shouldn't have taken off like that! Okaa-san has been so worried about you!"

"And you haven't?" Rin asked lazily as he stepped into the house. "Where's kaa-san now?"

The other redhead gave him a withering look, and Rin almost wanted to be proud that she had learned to use such an expression, probably from his influence. " _Out_."

He cocked a brow. "Are you saying that to me or about kaa-san?"

Gou deflated slightly, a majority of her attitude draining out at once. "Work. She's at work." The clarification was flat; he wondered briefly if his sister and mother had argued. What else could explain such an irritated answer? "What are you doing home in the middle of the afternoon?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Rin said lightly, brushing past his sister and heading for his room. Their home was modest and sparsely decorated, as most of their money was put toward more essential goods, but he had managed to finagle a few things here and there to help splash color into their lives. A few shells, stuck to a thin piece of old cloth and hung on the wall, fluttered in the breeze he created walking past. Rin headed into his room, leaving the door open behind him as a tacit invitation for Gou to follow.

His sister dogged his footsteps, trying to peek over his shoulder. "There are no classes for the rest of the week... Ama-sensei sent everyone home because she had to take care of some important business."

Rin rustled through his desk, a mishmash of neatly organized papers, books, and schoolwork. "Huh. Okay."

Gou slid open the door to his closet to peer curiously at his clothes. His academy robes were all neatly folded, and his ceremonial ones were tucked away already. There wasn't much to look at, really. "Are you looking for something?"

He rolled his eyes. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

The other redhead slid his closet shut with a bang and sighed. "Are you going somewhere?"

"What makes you say that?" Rin asked, sharper than he had intended. He had thought the charm had been left tucked away in the back of his desk, behind all his work and papers, but there was nothing there. He turned to Gou with a frown. "Hand it over."

"Hand what over?" Gou had her back to him, hands clasped behind her and her head canted to one side, the perfect picture of innocence. "Answer my question."

Rin had always appreciated the fact that dealing with family was both infuriating and fulfilling – that nothing grated on his nerves more than his younger sister, but nothing was nicer than the family together for an evening meal – but this was ridiculous. He didn't doubt that Nagisa would leave without him, regardless of the blond's good intentions by including him in the first place. He still had other things to gather up as well; who knew what kind of mess they were bound to encounter outside of their protected city? But still, he hesitated. With any other person, he would have pushed.

Somewhere, he knew, he would always have that soft spot for his little sister. After all, he had taken care of her when she was younger and their mother was busy working to feed and clothe them. When they had both been young, things had seemed easier. Sometimes Rin wondered when his baby sister had grown up. During those years at the academy, he supposed, the years they had spent toiling over magic and might. The years _he_ had spent. Gou had never seemed to care about becoming a knight or priest, not the way he had.

Gou was watching his face carefully over her shoulder. His sister was much more observant than he gave her credit for, Rin supposed; that or she was too well-connected for _his_ good. Maybe she had heard something. Maybe she had caught the edge of Nagisa's too-loud whisper that they were going off on an adventure into the unknown for reasons of which even they weren't certain.

"Give me the damn charm. I don't have time for this." Rin shifted his weight from one foot to the other impatiently. "I have to get going. I have somewhere to be."

The other redhead turned halfway to face him. "Was that so hard?" Gou asked sweetly. "Where do you have to be?"

It was strange to see himself in his sister, but that was what Rin saw when she took on that certain hardness in her tone, the certain stubbornness that he himself possessed. What was the point of hiding this from family? He had hidden plenty of things from family in the past. But how had that really worked out for him?

Not well, he answered his own question. This time was different, though. This time, he had something to prove.

"I'm meeting with Nagisa and Rei," he answered after a pause. What was the harm? It wasn't like he had to tell her everything. If he did, Rin was sure his sister would try to talk him out of such a selfish scheme. "Makoto and.. Haru left, but they forgot something important. We're going to go after them." A lie, but a harmless one. Gou likely hadn't been taught about their temple destination yet, and Rin felt like it wasn't his place. "Those idiots just took off without being properly prepared. Can you believe it?"

Gou scrutinized him. Then, apparently finding no lie in his face, she smiled. "They are a bit too earnest sometimes," she agreed. After a moment of hesitation, Gou held out the charm; it pooled in one hand, colors deep and iridescent. "I guess you'll need it if you're going outside the barrier."

Relief washed over him. Rin picked up the charm delicately. It was only a blue stone on the end of a ribbon, but the material had been designed to never break or fray, and the stone itself was made of rare enough minerals that it was very valuable. Rin had found it as a child, wandering the beach and looking for some sign of his father. He hadn't learned of its worth until much later, but the swirling colors and magical presence had drawn him in, and he had never found the heart to sell it. It was only years later that Miho had told him of its true worth. The stone was one piece of only a handful, their protective magic cast long ago by a very powerful priest.

Charms could be manufactured, of course, but those made by lesser students would never have the power that original stones held. Rin counted himself lucky to have found and kept one without realizing what it could actually do. He clutched the stone to his palm, imagining that he could feel heat emanating from it, responding to its immense magical power.

"Kaa-san's not going to be home, is she." Rin turned to his closet, brushing Gou aside. He retrieved a small bag and stuffed a few things into it. "Until late."

Gou shrugged. "I don't know."

"Tell her I won't be home for a while," he requested. "And tell her not to worry."

His sister's mouth curled up at the corners as she retreated back into the hallway. "Whatever you say, nii-san."

When Rin left the house some time later, charm tucked under his shirt and burning a hole into his chest, he swore he could feel eyes on his back. Gou stood in the doorway, mouth pinched into a frown. He raised a hand to wave, and she did the same.

Then he headed down the path back to the market without looking back.

* * *

"I told you he had one," Nagisa mock-whispered behind his hand. "It's nicer than the ones they sell at the market."

Rei's expression was inquisitive, as though he wanted to ask where Rin had come upon such a charm but didn't quite have the courage to ask. "I'm glad," he said finally. "We'll be much safer on the road with some kind of protection."

Rin wanted to know how Nagisa knew it was nicer than the ones at the market. How could the blond really have been able to tell, what with his elementary magical education? He kept the question to himself, not willing to confirm that his charm was indeed special.

"Mm!" the blond agreed, nodding his head. "And now that we're all here, we can finally get going!"

Rin couldn't keep his brows from twitching in slight irritation. "You were waiting?"

Nagisa only smiled in response. "Let's go!" he cheered, starting up the hill. "I want to see how far we can get before it gets too dark!"

Rei offered only a shrug before traipsing after the blond. Rin gnashed his teeth, trying not to let himself be too swayed by irritability. If he couldn't deal with Nagisa within the city limits, how was he going to be expected to put up with him outside the barrier? He allowed the other two a few steps ahead before starting after them, shoving his hands into his sleeves to keep himself from clenching his fists.

They walked in relative silence for a few minutes. Nagisa's expression slowly sobered as they approached the edge of Iwatobi, and Rei hid his nerves by fiddling with his glasses. The barrier had never _really_ bothered Rin; as a child, he had managed to poke holes in it with his offensive magic alone, and as a student, his magical control was precise and controlled. He could protect himself just fine, no matter what monsters presented themselves.

As they passed through the barrier, still in silence, he wondered why Nagisa was so eager to undertake this haphazard adventure. The blond knew enough about magical theory, Rin assumed, to protect himself well enough. Was it just worry for their friends that drove him to leave the city? Or was it something else? Of all their friends, Nagisa had always been the most difficult for him to read, and as they trudged along a well-worn path from the city limits, Rin tried not to let it bother him.

"Can you sense it?" Nagisa asked quietly, looking to Rei with an expression as serious as Rin had ever seen. "There should be a trail left over."

Rei took a moment to close his eyes, and Rin expanded his senses as well. It was faint, but there was a tendril of Makoto's magic left over in the area, hazy and inconsistent.

"It's odd… there's something else, too," Rei said after a pause, peering into the trees that surrounded their path. "Stronger magic leaves a larger residue, but it's not Makoto-senpai _or_ Haruka-senpai's."

Nagisa pursed his lips. Rin resisted the urge to tell him that it made him look even dumber. "Couldn't be a guide, right? Miho-chan didn't give them anything like that."

Rei lifted one shoulder in a noncommittal gesture. "I don't know… I didn't get enough time to look at that map."

The blond clasped his hands behind his back and tipped his head, looking up at the sky. "Well, Mako-chan and Haru-chan followed _something_ , right? I guess we should, too."

Rin, fighting again with rising irritation, looked between the two. " _What_ are you two talking about?"

"Ama-sensei gave Haruka-senpai a map before they left," Rei spoke quickly, shooting an expaserated look at Nagisa when he smiled. "I figured we could track Makoto-senpai because of how little magical control he has… Anywhere they go, there's bound to be at least a little of his magic attached to what they pass. A breadcrumb trail, if you will." He paused to push his glasses up his nose, hand lingering for a moment. "But if Haruka-senpai and Makoto-senpai are following something else, it _is_ possible that they're walking towards a trap."

"Possible!" Nagisa parroted. "Who knows!"

Rei continued with another exasperated look in Nagisa's direction. "I can't sense any malcontent from whatever they were following, but the trail is at least a day old. It's hard to tell, at this point."

"So basically," Rin summarized, "we can follow them, but by the time we catch up, they could be dead or some bullshit? Of _course_."

"It's not likely!" Rei said quickly. "More like, by the time we catch up, they could be way off track. If they're following what they think is a path that will take them to the temple, but it's actually designed to mislead them, it could cause problems with their connection to the Water Spirit."

Like that was a bad thing? He kept that thought to himself.

"Let's stop talking about it and just go," Nagisa said, setting off at a brisk walk. "We can talk about it later. We have to find them first. It _could_ be the right path! We won't know until we catch up!"

For once, Rin agreed. They set off, shadows elongating under their feet as they walked. Nagisa made idle conversation after a while, Rei joining in to, Rin assumed, keep the blond entertained. Rin stayed quiet, considering at first what he would say to Haruka and Makoto when they found them, then considering the temple they traveled toward.

Whatever secrets this Temple of the Elements held, Rin was determined to uncover a conclusion that didn't leave him disadvantaged. Anything was better than having his well-deserved position snatched out from under his feet, a figurative rug pulled from under him and leaving him grasping at straws. He wasn't deaf; he heard the whispers of the townfolk, those who were disappointed that he hadn't been Chosen and those who were relieved that it had turned out to be Haruka.

There were others still whose whispers about Makoto made his blood boil, but it _wasn't_ his duty, Rin reminded himself, to defend Makoto from the naysayers. Nagisa and Rei, on the other hand, had nothing but positive things to say about their newly Chosen. He wasn't sure which point of view he liked less, the ones who were disappointed that he hadn't been the one to be knighted, or the ones who badmouthed his friends. Angry as he was, it didn't mean he didn't still _care_ for Haruka and Makoto, right? It was the Water Spirit he was _really_ angry with, right?

Or was he truly angriest at himself, for failing to live up the standards he had set? Rin's expression twisted, discomfited by the thought.

If either of his friends noticed his change in expression, they said nothing, merely continuing to chat about Haruka and Makoto and this mystery path they were taking. He tried to focus his attention on sensing the world around them as well, and the charm thrummed against his chest, filling him with warmth as it responded to his magic. There was nothing in the general area that he could sense that wasn't wildlife, the occasional bird or rabbit or whatever else lurked in the trees, and he tried to put himself at ease – or at least, to not let himself be consumed by his own anger and frustration.

Rin resigned himself to a long, long walk.


	9. Trickle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In response to an anonymous review on FFN, it came to my attention that I haven't been clear about the time period. This AU takes place in a fantasy period, let's say around feudal Japan. 1500s or so. No modern technology. Inconsistencies (which I've tried to keep to a minimum, especially with regards to housing) that may occur, please write off as fantasy elements with which I took creative liberty. After all, magic can do strange and wonderful things, can't it?
> 
> This also includes roads and hair colors (hah, seemingly unrelated, right?). Free!, while set in Japan, has a wide variety of hair colors and eye colors (re: main cast, obvs), as is typical in anime, and I'm going to play with that in this story. Additionally, there weren't exactly a lot of roads in feudal Japan, and I don't know how many of you care about accuracy, but I am definitely taking creative liberty with these roads. Please forgive! XD

After several days of struggling with magic and Haruka's attempts at encouragement, Makoto felt as though maybe, _maybe_ he had made some progress.

It was their third day on the road, and they had covered a lot of ground, at least according to the map. Haruka had been teaching him to control his magic as they walked instead of only spending time on it in the evenings around the fire; it was hard to divide his attention between putting one foot in front of the other and his aura, but with Haruka's persistent voice by his side and the occasional hand on his arm to pull him in the right direction, Makoto thought he was managing pretty well.

He had advanced far enough that he could finally _see_ magic, at least. When he concentrated hard enough, Makoto could see the grainy cloud that enveloped his body, and if he turned his attention to Haruka, he could see the tightly controlled and ever-shifting aura that surrounded his knight like a second skin. Haruka kept his magic very close to his body; he had explained a few nights prior that he preferred not to expand his senses without a concrete purpose.

Haruka had also explained, without _really_ saying it, that magic loose and wild like Makoto's wasn't proper. He didn't have to say it; Makoto could see it on the other boy's face when his magic was too adventurous. Now that he had the senses for it, the brunet could tell when his magic was reaching out to Haruka – and it happened much more often than he had realized.

No wonder Haruka offered nothing but stony-faced silence when he wasn't playing teacher.

It was a little embarrassing, actually. His magic was so eager to get close to Haruka, so desperate to touch him, to mix and mingle, to – to, well, whatever else it was that magic was supposed to or wanted to do. Makoto had lain awake that first night, tense and still. He had been able to sense his magic then, but only vaguely, like the vague way he was aware of his clothing or of the weight of his tongue in his mouth. Makoto hadn't been able pull his magic back, not tired as he was; it had reached for Haruka, and the sensation sent his stomach fluttering with nerves. Or was it desire?

But it was inappropriate to _desire_ Haruka, wasn't it? Haru-chan, the boy he had grown up with, the one he had walked to the water's edge for classes, the one he had walked home every day, the one he dreamt about, the one he watched water drip off of perfect skin, along muscle tone and wind-tousled hair and – and – and Makoto had shifted, turning onto his side to try and forget those thoughts.

It was difficult to forget, however, when his magic was crawling along his own skin as well. Makoto had spent that first night tossing and turning, trying – not trying? – to forget about his magic and Haruka's, the way it surrounded their bodies, caressed his skin. It tingled – or perhaps tickled was the more appropriate word, a tickle that sent him shivering. The way Haruka's fingers on his wrist had sent him shivering, a little shake down his spine. The way the other boy's magic made his skin crawl, goose bumps snaking down the back of his arms and over his legs.

And then there was the issue of his dream, that dream he had had the night before they had left. He could still remember the feeling of Haruka's breath against his skin, and that was a problem, wasn't it? It hadn't been real. It wasn't a real event. But for some reason, he couldn't forget it. He couldn't forget the sensations. Hands on his hips, fingertips pressing into his skin, limbs tangled, a warm mouth, hot tongue. The memory felt as real as Haruka's presence beside him as they traveled, as real as the other's hands surrounding his own as his knight coached him in controlling his immense magic.

Makoto caught himself staring at Haruka's lips when he spoke on more than one occasion. Hopefully his knight hadn't noticed his blush. Haruka was probably too busy following their illuminated path to notice something as frivolous as Makoto's flushed cheeks, and even if he had, the brunet assumed he was just as likely to write it off as the heat of the day or from their exertions.

So they walked.

The days were long, and working with his magic tired him out much faster than only physical activity. After the first night, Makoto slept easy on the forest floor. Haruka's magic surrounded them all through the evenings and nights; a simple spell, the other boy had explained, to keep them safe, something to mimic the barrier that surrounded Iwatobi on a much smaller scale. No demons appeared from the mist to threaten them, and no wild animals encroached on the path.

In fact, if Makoto hadn't known any better, their trip really would have felt like a vacation. Sightseeing, maybe. Their first trip as a couple. Except they weren't really a couple, he reminded himself with slight embarrassment. Haruka was his teacher and companion and friend, and it was neither the place nor the time for silly infatuation, if that was what his feelings were.

It seemed almost too soon that they were in sight of the next town.

* * *

"We should reach the city limits by the end of the day tomorrow, at least," Haruka said as they sat across from each other. "It isn't too far."

The fire burned hot and bright between them. Flickering shadows made his knight look exhausted, the dark circles under his eyes turning purpled and bruised. When the shadows moved on, Haruka looked awake and alert, attentive to any danger in their surroundings. Makoto wished he could be just as vigilant, if only to give the other boy a break. It had to be exhausting, using so much magic and as often as they walked. It was exhausting enough for him to practice, let alone using the substance for its perhaps intended purpose.

"That's great!" Makoto smiled, hands clasped in his lap. He had been trying to expand his senses, but all his magic truly wanted to focus on was the boy on the other side of the fire. It was drawn to Haruka like a magnet, senses trapped and ensnared and noticing nothing but the other's presence as it flickered like the fire. "It'll be nice to sleep indoors."

Haruka's mouth curled, almost a smile. "Hm."

"I – not that camping with Haru-chan isn't fun," Makoto amended himself quickly. "I just – you'll sleep better if you don't have to put up a spell to protect us, won't you?"

"Maybe," Haruka said evasively. "I don't know."

Makoto looked down, twisting his fingers nervously in his lap. "Has… anything come close to attacking us?" He hadn't found the courage to ask any earlier, but now, Makoto felt like he deserved to know. "You haven't had to sneak off in the middle of the night, have you?"

If Haruka _had_ , it would certainly explain why he looked so tired. His knight shook his head slowly. "No," Haruka said as though savoring the word. "Nothing's come close. Nothing big enough to be a threat, at least."

The brunet tried again to expand his senses outward, ignoring the persistent tug of Haruka's presence across from him. There were several smaller presences out of sight, probably birds or rabbits or something. His senses were nowhere near refined enough to identify anything except general location.

Haruka looked on, expression impassive but eyes bright and interested. "You've improved," he said simply. "Your radius has expanded."

Makoto felt his cheeks warm with a blush. "Ah – I've been trying! It doesn't bother you, does it?"

The other boy shrugged. "Keep practicing."

He held his hands out, cupping his palms together. One of the exercises that Haruka had recommended he practice regularly was the first he had taught Makoto; turning his magic into a solid form and holding it there would quicken his control, apparently. And he did need that control. Already his concentration was slipping as his magic crawled along their makeshift campsite, determined to coil around Haruka's arms and legs.

Haruka stared into the fire, unresponsive. Makoto tried his hardest not to focus on the way the firelight played across his features or the way his lips parted just slightly as he sighed. His magic hummed along his skin, pooling eagerly in between his palms. It was much easier to bend the stuff to his will now that Haruka had taught him the basics, but he still had too much magic to make more than a small portion of it listen to him. Magic pooled eagerly in his hands, but more magic wound around his shoulders and more still slunk toward Haruka across the fire. He was literally overflowing with magic, and how in the world was he supposed to harness all of it at the same time? What kind of concentration would that take?

His thoughts were interrupted when Haruka made a strangled noise and stood abruptly. "I'm going to… I'll be right back," he said by means of explanation, disappearing into the trees before Makoto could get a word in edgewise.

He hadn't missed the pink on Haruka's cheeks – had Haru-chan been _blushing_?

Makoto recalled very clearly how the other boy had been acting at first during their travels. He was excellent at reading body language, and interpreting Haruka was like second nature after all the time they had spent together. _Something_ had been making the other boy uncomfortable, but what? What could distract him so?

It brought a blush to his own cheeks to consider the idea that perhaps Haruka was slowly being consumed by similar thoughts to his own. Could magic do this? Could magic push them together, even if they dragged their heels?

Probably, Makoto reasoned. Magic could do all sorts of strange things. It wasn't _really_ too strange to think of it, of the Water Spirit, urging them together. Most of the pairs of priests and knights that he had ever read about had been, well, _intimate_ , and the idea of that, of being that way with Haruka, made his face hot and his heart race. It made his magic excited as well; Makoto could feel it tugging at his skin as though urging him to go after Haruka. The urge was strong enough that he nearly gave in, got up and followed. It was almost impossible not to with the way his magic was suddenly so insistent, so determined, so _desperate_.

But he wasn't one to be easily swayed.

Self control and patience were qualities that Makoto had never lacked. Instead of getting up, the brunet tried a little harder to pool his magic in his hands. It solidified like water, and for a moment, there was a perfect pool, circular and reflective, in his palms. Only a moment later, his hands were overflowing, magic welling up like a spring.

A twig snapped somewhere in the surrounding trees, and his concentration broke. Droplets of water spotted his folded legs, and he was immediately on alert, heart racing again, nerves washing over him. Was it finally too much? Had something – or someone – finally sensed his ample magic?

Haruka stepped out from behind a tree, hair tousled by the wind and expression still contemplative. Rather than being put at ease, however, Makoto heart continued to hammer and heat rose in his cheeks.

"I – welcome back?" he tried lamely.

The other boy returned to the fireside, tucking his legs underneath himself as he sat. Makoto wondered how long he had been gone; it hadn't felt very long, but as he had learned, practicing with his magic was a time-consuming effort. "You have too much magic," Haruka said plainly. "It's not normal."

Makoto furrowed his brows, mouth slightly open. "I'm… I'm sorry?"

"You _shouldn't_ have so much magic," Haruka continued as though he hadn't spoken. "It has to be coming from the Water Spirit."

Was it the Water Spirit's will that was pushing him to move closer to Haruka? Was his magic clouding his mind with thoughts of a warm hand in his own, hot breath against his neck, a gentle kiss? Or was it simply his own desires manifesting? Makoto had liked his best friend for as long as he could remember, both platonically and romantically. But he had never wanted to taint their friendship, the friendship he cherished, by trying to push for more than Haruka was willing to give. Perhaps his magic knew him better than he knew himself and was trying to force him to take the steps neither of them was ready for?

"What does that mean?" Makoto asked when his knight didn't immediately continue. "Is that… bad?"

Haruka looked only slightly exasperated. "It means you have to figure out a way to use up more magic. You'll be overloaded if you don't."

"Over… loaded?"

"You won't be able to use magic as effectively because there's too much to control," Haruka clarified. "At least not without a mediator. Something to channel your energy into."

Makoto looked down at his hands, sensing the magic jumping between his outstretched fingers. Maybe that was why he had so much trouble harnessing all the magic that surrounded him? Chosen priests were inundated with magic, literally speaking, but they usually had training and a background to deal with that sort of thing. Makoto had no basis except Haruka's muttered teachings, and, assuming from the meager progress he had made, he wasn't a natural talent.

Why had the Water Spirit marked him? _Why_ had he been chosen? As they usually did, the thoughts came unbidden.

"Even if you train, you'd still have too much magic," Haruka mused, staring hard at the fire. It made his eyes shine; Makoto appreciated their color silently. It was no wonder Haruka had been chosen. He looked every bit a water acolyte. "I don't understand."

"We can worry about that later, right?" Makoto said with his best attempt at a bright smile. "It's getting late… We should get some sleep."

Haruka turned to look at him, brows slightly furrowed. For a moment, the brunet thought he was going to argue, but then Haruka merely shrugged. "You're right."

They set up their blankets and lay side by side next to the fire the same way they had done every night so far. The starry sky over their heads was vast, and Makoto felt like it looked close enough to reach out and touch. Haruka's breathing was overloud in his ears; along with the crackling of the fire, it drew his attention. Makoto willed himself the courage to reach out and take his priest's hand where it lay tossed over the other boy's stomach.

As the fire's light died down, Makoto felt no less warm as Haruka's magic expanded over them both. It was like a second blanket, one that made his skin crawl and prickle, though not unpleasantly. His racing thoughts were only matched by the flutter of his heartbeat as heat rose in his cheeks, and it took more than a few long moments to clear his mind. Haruka's chest rose and fell systematically, a sure sign that he had fallen asleep quickly. Of course; he was probably tired from using so much magic all day.

The prickling heat rescinded as Makoto's thoughts turned instead to worry, a concern for his knight, for himself, for their journey. It was much harder to concentrate on Haruka's presence next to him when he was too worried about what would happen when they reached the Temple of the Elements. Then his thoughts turned to magic, his family, their friends back in Iwatobi, and finally to the road ahead.

At some point amidst his fleeting thoughts, Makoto fell into an easy sleep.

* * *

Okayama was much busier than he had expected.

The city itself hadn't appeared that large from the outside. It was surrounded by a stone wall that effectively hid much of the lower levels of the city; two gates allowed passage in and out, and Makoto had worried that they would be turned away. They had no passports, nothing to prove their good intentions, and little money with which to bribe guards. The guards, however, had taken one look at Haruka's tattoos, learned where they had traveled from, and waved them into the city with only a request that they visit the shrine during their stay.

Makoto was sure they had been addressing his knight, but he had been the one to agree before they were swept into the city by a throng of merchants and townsfolk alike. Inside the walls, the city seemed endless; great tiers held many houses and shops, and there were a great number of people wandering the streets. The shrine was on a higher tier than where the gates let into; Makoto wondered how many stairs they would have to climb to reach that part of the city. The higher tiers also contained nicer homes, and he wondered as well if they would have to pass any more guards in order to reach something as valuable and protected as the shrine to the Water Spirit.

Haruka seemed amused as they walked, though Makoto wasn't sure why. "We should find a place to stay for the night before we go to the shrine," he said when they had managed to extract themselves from the small crowd near the gates.

"Right…" Makoto said slowly, trying and failing not to let himself be distracted by the city. The houses were similar to those of Iwatobi, but many of the shops had signs that were magicked into life. Some signs moved, and he could see one, just barely peeking over the lowest tiers, that acted as a fountain, shooting a jet of water into the air every few seconds. "Ah, which way should that be?"

He hardly noticed that the golden thread they had been following was absent in this town until Haruka shrugged. "I don't know. We can go this way."

They wandered the city, moving from the lower districts to the higher ones. Makoto was relieved to find that the guards did little more than turn their noses up as they passed. He was slightly disheartened to see how many people gave them a very wide berth on the streets, and a few others' expressions were downright shocked when they passed. Haruka's amusement only seemed to grow. Makoto wasn't quite sure what the problem was.

Aside from the odd looks, they were also stopped twice. The first was an old woman with a cane who requested a blessing from the Water Spirit. Makoto tried to oblige, but she insisted that Haruka was the one to say the words. His knight's amusement had been much less then and his tone had been clipped, words terse. The second person had been a man, perhaps middle-aged, carrying a basket of fish. He had stopped in his tracks and crossed the beaten-down road to speak with them, voice somber, requesting that they visit the shrine and bring the spirit's favor to the town.

They continued wandering for a majority of the afternoon, and Makoto couldn't help the nagging feeling that they really were just wasting time.

* * *

When they finally found a suitable place to stay, Haruka ducked in to organize their lodging. Makoto waited outside, still entranced by the city's bustle and the people passing. He stood near the entrance of a small ryokan, leaning against the wall and watching a man with a basket piled high with vegetables hobble down the street. He nearly got up to offer a hand, but someone else's presence loomed next to him before he could stand up straight, let alone cross the road.

"Looking for someone?" a man with sandy hair and dark eyes grinned beside him. "No. Waiting for someone?"

Makoto smiled back uneasily. "Ah, yes, actually."

The man clicked his tongue against his teeth. "That's too bad."

"I'm… sorry?" Makoto said, unsure of what else to offer. The stranger was nearly as tall as he was, and judging by his clothing, he was a resident of the town; he was leaning against the wall, effectively blocking Makoto's view of the ryokan door. A strange prickle crept over his arm, and Makoto scratched it idly.

The other man's eyes followed his movements, and the brunet felt a sudden surge of discomfort. "Will your… companion be arriving shortly, or do you have some time to spare?"

Again, Makoto wasn't sure what to offer. "I'm not sure… Why? Can I help you with something?"

"I can think of a few things," the stranger said, very quickly following up with another question. Makoto wasn't quite sure what to make of that response. "You're not from Okayama, are you?"

The conversation was going right over his head. "Um, no. We aren't."

"We," the stranger repeated with slightly raised brows. "So you aren't meeting someone from here? Are you sure you don't need a guide? Someone to… take you around while you're here? Show you the sights?"

"No, thank you," Makoto said as firmly as he could manage. "We won't be in town long."

He very nearly jumped when the other man's hand encircled his wrist. The touch was gentle, so he didn't bother pulling away at first – no point in causing a scene. The man with the vegetable basket had disappeared around the corner, but there were still enough people milling around. An older woman tossed a disparaging look their way. Makoto still wasn't sure why he was receiving so many dirty looks.

"Oh… These markings are lovely. From your village?" The stranger looked very slowly from his wrist to his eyes, and Makoto was slightly uncomfortable with that lingering gaze. He had nearly forgotten that his rippling tattoos could still be seen, not the way Haruka's had disappeared under his skin. The other man ran his thumb over the markings, and Makoto again felt his skin prickle, this time not entirely with discomfort. "Mm. Your eyes are lovely, too. Are you sure I can't take you for a meal?"

Makoto had the feeling that he was missing some very important element here, something that would help this conversation suddenly make sense. "Ah… I'm sorry, no."

"Excuse me," Haruka's voice issued from behind the stranger, frosty and irritated, and a warning hand rested on the stranger's shoulder. "Do you mind?"

"Mind? No, not at all. He's a hard sell, dear." The other man grinned, releasing Makoto's wrist and stepping away in the same moment. The brunet felt his skin itch and tingle where the other man had touched it. "I don't think you'll have much luck."

Haruka's expression was bordering on some sort of spectacular anger, and it was with gritted teeth that he spoke next. "I'm not here for _that_."

The stranger looked between them with slightly raised brows. " _Oh_. I should have known better. The good ones are _always_ already promised to someone else!" He sighed, sounding almost disappointed. "Hm. Well, you two enjoy your evening." He offered a little wave and then headed across the street, where a man with dark hair was apparently waiting; they headed off together down the path, heads bent together to speak.

Makoto turned, expression faintly stunned. "Um… hello. You were gone a while."

His knight took up his wrist in the exact place the stranger had touched him, turning it over in his hands. "What was that about?" Haruka asked, tone slightly more aggressive than usual. " _What_ were you talking to him for? Why didn't you tell him to go away?"

He felt guilty without really understanding why; Haruka had gone from aggressive to reproachful in a matter of seconds. "I – I don't know," Makoto said, catching himself before he could start twisting his fingers. "I –"

"Doesn't matter," Haruka cut across him quickly, casting a withering look across the street. "We should find something to eat before the fresh market closes."

Relieved that the subject had changed, Makoto agreed perhaps more enthusiastically than he would have otherwise. Haruka cast one more reproachful look over his shoulder as they headed off the opposite way the stranger had gone, and Makoto wondered, not for the first time, what his life would have been like if he had attended the magic academy with the rest of his friends. He would have lived a very different life, he thought, but at least maybe then, he wouldn't feel so out of the loop.

* * *

It was over dinner and in very terse, short words that Haruka explained to him what, exactly, a lack of magical control was taken to mean.

There was no way to tell for certain if he was doing it on purpose, on accident, or because of a lack of magical education, Haruka had said, so the majority were going to assume he was doing it on purpose. Having magic that brushed against every person they passed was wildly inappropriate, and – and it was this part that had made Makoto flush and twist his fingers – and when a majority assumed he was allowing his magic to roam freely on purpose, it was also then assumed that he was _available_. Because allowing magic to mix and mingle was such an intimate process, people would then assume that he was making his intentions very clear by such a vast magical trail behind him.

Makoto had buried his face in his hands, supremely embarrassed and suddenly understanding. The stranger on the street had been trying to _proposition_ him and not only to take him out to dinner (which had been made even more obvious in hindsight by Haruka's roll of his eyes, and the sharp, " _He was hitting on you, idiot.")_. Standing in front of a local ryokan had no doubt not been helpful to his case. And the way Haruka had reacted… It made his heart beat a little faster and his flush a little darker to remember the nasty expression Haruka had offered the man trying to proposition him.

When he had finally felt the warmth in his cheeks starting to fade, Makoto had picked his head up. Haruka had been sprawled back on one of the futons, hands clasped over his stomach and staring at the ceiling. The inn had to have been created with some kind of magic; the room they had acquired was much larger than the outside of the building suggested, and many doors lined the hallway they had traveled down. Their futons were still side by side, tatami much more comfortable under his back than dirt ground.

"Come here," Haruka broke the silence with a sharp gesture as he sat up. "Give me your wrist."

Makoto scooted closer obediently, offering his left hand.

Haruka frowned. "The other one."

When his knight's fingers closed around his skin, the same prickling sensation erupted over his arms. Makoto nearly gasped; pins and needles shot along his arm, like he had been sleeping on it for too long and the limb had fallen asleep, or he had held it over his head for too long and restricted blood flow. A moment later, a tendril of Haruka's magic flickered into being, and it wrapped around the brunet's wrist and forearm. The touch was gentle, but it made him nervous all the same; nerves and confusion washed over him in a sudden wave. Makoto had to stop himself from yanking his arm back.

"Don't tense," Haruka warned without looking up. His eyes were riveted on the markings along Makoto's wrist, and the dim light his magic produced flickered over his face. "Does it hurt?"

Makoto willed his cheeks not to flush. "Ah, no, it… tickles, I guess."

A half-smile curled his knight's mouth. There was no way Haruka could have phrased his question like that on purpose, was there? "Good. That man… he left magic on you. I'm removing it."

He looked down at his arm in relative surprise. It must have been very subtle magic. Makoto couldn't sense anything, not even when he tried to focus his attention on his wrist. His tattoos did shimmer, the waves responding to his magic and rocking gently over his skin, but there was no creeping feeling of another person's magic against his own.

Haruka's brows furrowed, and his smile faded. After a moment, he withdrew his hands; between them, a thin ribbon of magic jerked and twisted. It wasn't light like Haruka's, but it wasn't black, and the presence didn't seem malicious, at least. "I don't know how he managed to do it without you noticing," the other boy said softly. "But I don't think we should separate in towns anymore."

Makoto ran his fingers over his wrist. Haruka's magic was still there, and he could feel it easily. It made his face feel a little warm; this time, instead of uncomfortable prickling, his skin buzzed, and even his own fingers on his skin was making him shiver a little bit. Makoto dropped his hand quickly, determined not to let it show on his face.

His knight was too busy dealing with the stray bit of the stranger's magic to notice – at least, Makoto hoped that was the case. After a moment, Haruka waved away the squirming tendril as it faded into smoke.

Their eyes met as the small cloud dissipated, and Makoto dropped his gaze, suddenly feeling goose bumps erupting along the back of his neck and prickles going down his spine.

"You probably shouldn't practice magic while we're in any towns," Haruka said, breaking the silence. "We don't want anything like today happening again."

"No, we don't," Makoto mumbled, moving to scoot back close to his own futon. "I'll try to be more careful."

Haruka's hand shot out and caught his wrist before he could move too far away. "Wait." The word was like a command; Makoto stilled, immediately and unintentionally.

For a moment, the other boy didn't continue. Makoto was hyperaware of their skin touching; his magic was nearly beyond his control in its efforts to get to Haruka. Their connection made his control even more tenuous, and it would be so easy, _so easy_ , to just lean in and kiss Haruka that he almost did just that. Makoto caught himself leaning forward slightly.

"What?" he asked finally, embarrassed to hear how breathy his voice had gotten. "What… is it?"

Haruka's grip tightened. He still said nothing, but his head was slightly canted, lips almost parted like he was just about to say something, and his magic – his magic was even more tightly controlled, drawn into his body, but that made it no less enticing. Makoto's teeth scored his lower lip, and he bit down hard in an effort to distract himself.

Magic crept up his arm, and he was so startled that it was Haruka's magic that was creeping over his skin that he jerked back. The magic followed, but the other boy's hand slid off of his wrist; Haruka's fingers lingered, and his magic was so gentle that it felt practically like a caress.

Makoto's face flamed. He scooted very quickly back to his own futon to put distance between them, even though it wasn't all that far, and his knight let him go. Haruka's expression was closed and unreadable.

"I – we should get to bed," Makoto said quickly, worried that his voice was a notch higher than usual. "We're leaving early tomorrow, right?"

Haruka nodded slowly. There was a slight hardness to his eyes, but he didn't look annoyed, just – disappointed? "Yes."

Makoto's stomach twisted at the thought that perhaps Haruka was disappointed that they hadn't bridged that gap. Magic stroked the back of his neck, and the brunet sat up a little straighter, trying not to allow his face to reflect his surprise and running a hand over his neck. It felt good, and he had almost, _almost_ gasped.

He struggled with the words. "Well, I guess… goodnight?" If he could even get to sleep tonight. His stomach was twisted in knots, and his pulse was racing.

Haruka pressed his lips into a thin line, tongue peeking between for a brief moment to wet them. "Right."

Makoto sat down on his knees, leaning forward slightly on his hands. It pitted him closer to Haruka, but even with his flushed cheeks, he couldn't muster any embarrassment. "I…" he started, then stopped when he realized he wasn't sure what he wanted to say.

The other boy was still. Magic flickered between them like literal sparks, and Makoto swallowed hard. There was an oppressive presence in the room that felt like it was pushing him forward, and he wondered if Haruka felt something similar. Another shiver went through him. Moving forward, scooting, crawling, _whatever_ , and getting closer to Haruka was the only thing he could think about, and there was a consuming, burning desire to kiss his knight that he nearly balked.

Especially when a moment later, Haruka's fingers were knotted in his collar and he was yanked forward. Their teeth knocked together, and Makoto sucked in a quick breath. Like most things, it didn't seem to deter Haruka. Then their mouths met more slowly. The kiss was awkward; their lips were pressed together, but the angle was wrong, and they didn't really know what they were doing. The magic surged against his neck hard enough to force him to tilt his head, and Makoto pressed hesitantly into the kiss.

Their mouths broke apart, Makoto's face flaming with a blush. Even Haruka's cheeks were dusted with pink.

It took all of his willpower to lean forward and try again; as much as he wanted to, as much as he wanted another kiss, maybe a better one, he had never instigated something like that before. Their second kiss was only marginally less awkward than the first, but it still sent Makoto's stomach twisting with nerves and ignited a fire somewhere, a pulse that left him nearly panting when their second kiss bled into another. Haruka's hands on his collar shifted, one cupping the back of his head instead. There was a slight press of tongue, and he parted his lips. They were a little sloppy with their movements, but the first brush of Haruka's tongue made him braver, and he tried his best to meet the other boy halfway.

When they finally broke apart, Makoto opened his eyes without remembering when he had closed them. His entire being – or was it his entire magic? – was filled with a sudden longing to keep going, to kiss harder and more deeply and – and – and he ran his tongue over his lower lip, eyes half lidded.

His mouth felt wet; neither of them were experienced, and the kisses had been little more than experimentation. Regardless, it had sent his heart racing, and if Haruka's grip had been any indication, his knight had enjoyed it as much as he had, however guiltily.

"We should get some sleep," Haruka said, voice slightly gruff. "Before…" Before what? His knight didn't elaborate. "We'll leave early tomorrow."

Makoto knew for certain that his expression must have reflected his disappointment. _Where_ was this longing coming from? He had never felt such a strong desire for his best friend before, but now… now, he could barely keep himself from leaning in and kissing Haruka again. It took all of his self control to nod, avert his gaze, and settle back down onto his futon.

"You're right," Makoto agreed, trying to convince himself as much as he was saying it for Haruka's benefit. "You're… right. Are you…" He cleared his throat, trying to pretend that nothing had happened, that they hadn't just kissed the way they had. "Will you be putting up a barrier tonight? I'm not sure I can keep my… magic, um, contained."

Haruka's flush darkened slightly. If Makoto hadn't known his knight so well, he might have missed it. Did he know, did Haruka _know_ , about that night before their travels? The way Makoto's magic had spiked and the way he had felt, that _dream_ , those thoughts?

"I'll put something up. Just go to sleep."

The magic along his neck and back finally lifted. Makoto let out a quiet sigh, only half of relief. It was embarrassing to feel the disappointment he did, but what could he do?

"Well…" Makoto hesitated. He ran his tongue over his lower lip again, catching Haruka's eyes. "Are you sure I shouldn't…?"

"Go to sleep," Haruka repeated. "Just do it."

Makoto smiled faintly. "Okay, okay… Goodnight, Haru-chan."

Like he was _really_ going to be getting any sleep that night.

" _Don't_ call me –chan," Haruka said sharply.

His magic spread over them both, blanketing the room. It settled especially thickly over the circular window on the far wall, the shutters of which were pulled tightly shut and latched. Makoto squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to listen as Haruka settled down against his futon and sighed out a slow breath, even though he could practically see the way his knight's lips would be parted as he breathed, the position he favored in his sleep.

And then, a moment later and a little softer, "Goodnight."


	10. Tsunami

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, first of all, sorry for the delay. This semester has been kicking me in the face. Defended my thesis today, though! It went really well! /floats off
> 
> Dunno if it's obvious, but this chapter took a WAY different turn than I planned. It's like, the middle part just sort of WHAM HAPPENED and I was standing uselessly off to the side, letting it go. So, uh. Time to reevaluate my timeline, I guess..

In the morning, neither he nor Makoto brought up the fact that they had kissed.

He had woken before Makoto and lay very still. Makoto was breathing steadily, and when Haruka sat up to check on him, the other boy's chest was rising and falling rhythmically. One of Makoto's arms was slung up beside his head, and his mouth was open. It was an endearing look. Makoto looked vulnerable and open asleep, and it wasn't the first time Haruka had observed him that way, but it was one of the first times he had actually appreciated it. He kept his hands to himself, however, for fear of waking his priest up. The map was ambiguous about how close they were to the temple, and with Makoto's work on controlling his magic, he needed all the rest he could get.

It also gave him the opportunity to dwell on the fact that they had indeed kissed. More than once and quite passionately at that. Haruka had traced the tip of his index finger over his lower lip, imagining what it would be like to kiss again. Perhaps with more experience, they could figure out something more comfortable, and then a bit more. He kept his thoughts from wandering too far down _that_ path, at least so early in the morning.

Haruka left the room for a short time after that, heading out into the streets to find them something to eat for breakfast before they headed out into the rest of the city. By the time he had returned, Makoto was starting to wake, groggy and disoriented.

It took a short time to rouse Makoto, eat breakfast, and pack their belongings, and it wasn't long after that that they headed out into the city. There were very few people on the roads in the higher districts, and Makoto seemed much more at ease. Haruka could sympathize; fewer people meant that there were fewer dirty looks directed their way as they walked. With Makoto's magical control the way it was, there were plenty of people who misunderstood. It would have been much easier to glare at them if Makoto's magic wasn't creeping up the back of his shirt. Haruka had never had to work so hard to keep his expression neutral.

They visited the shrine, which was watched over by a young woman with bright eyes and a kind smile, paid their respects to the spirit, and gathered up a few supplies to carry them over on the road. The next town, according to their map, was a place called Miki, but it would be several days more before they reached it. Unless they reached the temple before the village, but Haruka had no point of reference for that, so it was best to be prepared for anything.

Then they headed back out onto the path. The guards waved them past the gate, exchanging raised brows behind their backs when Haruka glanced back over his shoulder.

Once they were past the city limits, the golden thread of light that they had been following flickered again into existence. Haruka traced it with his fingertip, used to its presence enough to have missed it when they were inside Okayama. The thread felt less solid, though; it was smokier, less tangible. He withdrew the map from his pack and unfolded it slowly.

"Is something wrong?" Makoto asked, falling into step beside him. "You look worried."

Haruka looked up from the map with a slight frown. "I'm not worried. I just want to make sure that we're heading in the right direction."

The brunet peered over his shoulder. "Ah… So that's where we are? We're farther than I thought!"

He traced the map slowly. "Okayama is here… We'll have to go through a pretty heavily wooded area to get to Miki, but it looks like there should be a mountain pass that we can take…" Haruka pursed his lips. "There won't be much between then and now."

"We've managed this far on our own," Makoto said cheerfully. "We have enough dried meats to last us… but if we can find things along the way, it should last us a lot longer. That shouldn't be too hard!"

Haruka lifted one shoulder in noncommittal agreement. "We'll have a lot of walking to do."

"Of course!" Makoto clasped his hands together, magic flickering between them. "I hope I can get some more practice in before we reach Miki… I don't want anyone else to get the wrong idea again."

He couldn't help the slight chuckle that his priest's words produced. "Right."

"I don't!" The other boy was immediately sheepish. He looked back down, teeth scoring his lower lip. Haruka's eyes followed the motion, accompanied by the brief thought that he would prefer those be _his_ teeth on Makoto's lower lip. Maybe next time. "I didn't… well, I'd know now, but I don't…"

"Hmh."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

Makoto sighed, cupping his hands together and returning his attention to practicing his magic where his attention had flagged during their conversation. "I wish we were there already."

The comment caught him off-guard; Haruka nearly slowed. "What?"

"I just mean…" Makoto struggled with words for a moment, his magic flickering in and out of focus between his hands. "I wish the Water Spirit could talk to us right now. Without all this traveling."

"You don't like it." It wasn't a question; Makoto was obviously out of his element on the road.

"I don't like _magic_ ," the other boy clarified. "Well, maybe I just don't like it because I'm not good at it." He smiled, again sheepish. "Do you think I'll get better at this? I'm worried… I don't want to cause you more problems."

"It's not a problem," Haruka said with a shake of his head. "You're improving." Slowly, he might have added. Slowly but surely. Perhaps some sort of calamity would improve Makoto's concentration and control, but an episode of that magnitude would probably be more trouble than it was worth. "I'm not a very good teacher," he added after a pause.

Makoto was quick to respond. "No! Haru-chan is a wonderful teacher," he said earnestly. "I'm sorry I'm not a better student."

Haruka eyed the other boy with a frown. "Stop talking and concentrate."

Makoto looked down at his hands with a faint smile. "Right. I'll do my best today."

Like his priest was really capable of anything less. Haruka kept that to himself and merely made sure that the brunet stayed on track as they walked for the majority of the morning. That was easy when he couldn't stop sneaking glances back, preoccupied by the memory of Makoto's parted lips and warm skin under his fingertips.

* * *

It was two days later, when they were dragging their feet through the dense trees that led to the mountain pass, that Haruka first began to suspect that something was wrong.

The golden thread they followed had nearly disappeared completely; its light was dim, its presence nearly imperceptible, and even his finger along the line was not enough to guide them. They were approaching an area where the trees were clustered so tightly together that it was hard to see, and although it was still fairly early in the afternoon, the canopy overhead made it appear darker than it actually was. Makoto, while likely still unable to sense the slightly ominous presence the forest provided, seemed uncomfortable as well; his shuffling steps were much closer to Haruka than he usually walked.

The closeness was probably partly due to the fact that the previous night, they had been unable to resist kissing again. They had lain their sleeping mats so close together that it had been easy to reach for each other, too easy, too tempting. Their kisses had been hurried and desperate, one after another, and Makoto had braved resting his hands on Haruka's shoulders, at least until the contact made magic flowing between them too much to bear. The direct connection between their bodies allowed magic to mingle where their mouths met, where their hands explored; it was a heady sensation, one that sent his desires careening out of rational control, and when they had finally broken away from each other, Makoto had been red-faced and breathing hard, and it had taken _every ounce_ of Haruka's self control not to push him.

After all, when it was so easy to imagine pushing his priest to their sleeping mats, parting his legs, fingers against skin, tongues entwining – when the thoughts encroached on his everyday ability to concentrate, Haruka knew something had to be done. Whether that something was giving in to the desire or furiously ignoring it, he was certain the former would be more effective than the latter. Unfortunately, this was not the time or the place, and Haruka had struggled with sleep that night. His fantasies had wound on out of control behind his closed eyes, unchecked by his rational mind. After all, there were no consequences for dreaming of Makoto's skin.

He couldn't tell if they were traveling between the mountains yet; aside from the thickness of the trees, there was no change in temperature or in pressure to help him gauge the distance. There was nothing except the fact that they had yet to run into any magical creatures outside the towns' barriers, and that in itself was suspect.

"Haru?" Makoto broke the silence, voice hardly above a whisper. "Why are we slowing down?"

Haruka reached for his priest's hand without thinking. "We aren't."

Makoto twined their fingers eagerly, shuffling closer. "Is something wrong?"

"It's nothing," Haruka answered shortly.

Trees rustled to their right. He stiffened, and Makoto jumped, a quiet noise of surprise escaping him. Nothing immediately appeared, but Makoto didn't back off, inching still closer. Nagisa always had teased their friend about how jumpy he was. In this case, however, Haruka thought it was a completely reasonable reaction. With their hands connected, it was also a little easier to dampen Makoto's magical presence forcefully, though whether that was necessary was not yet apparent.

Nothing emerged from the trees. Makoto gave a little nervous laugh. "Hah. N-nothing there."

"There's nothing around here," Haruka said, only half to make the other boy feel better. He couldn't sense anything in their immediate surroundings, and he didn't feel comfortable expanding his radius outward. If there _was_ something lurking, waiting for them to reach a particular spot, there was no sense in alerting it – or them – to his and his priest's presence before absolutely necessary. Makoto's magic would be like a beacon in the darkness anyway. If something was out there looking for magic to consume, they would likely be the first and most convenient targets. Somehow Haruka doubted that there were many other humans wandering these woods.

"Are you sure?" Makoto asked. His voice was a notch higher than usual; nerves made the other boy's voice waver, and he was holding Haruka's hand with both of his own, slightly hunched over. "I – I just want to be sure."

Their illuminated path was suddenly choppy, missing large sections of golden thread as it wove between the trees and out of sight. Haruka sped up, knowing full well that walking faster would not make the path reappear.

" _Haru_." Makoto spoke, and there was a certain fearful urgency in his tone. "There are _eyes_ in the trees."

At once, Haruka expanded his senses. He whipped his head around, trying to see what Makoto was seeing. Tiny pinpricks of light danced between the trees and despite the relative comfort that accompanied being able to see in the falling darkness, their presence felt oddly sinister. Haruka could understand how his priest had seen eyes; they did seem to blink as the light danced in and out of sight, and a dark core of magic appeared similar to a pupil. Each of the tiny lights had hardly any presence at all; there was no creature or larger manifestation, only the slight disruption of the air when he reached a little farther.

"It's just residual magic," he said with a frown. There was no point in trying to make Makoto feel less tense now; if residual magic was lingering in this forest, there had to be some manner of creatures lurking in the nearby trees. If Makoto could sense something that he couldn't, it was also possible that the blinking lights were being used to spy on them from a different location. "It's not harmful."

Makoto swallowed hard. "R-right." He didn't sound at all convinced.

"Even if it's malicious, it won't hurt us." Haruka trudged on with his head held high, resisting the urge to fix an angry glare on the baubles. "They shouldn't come closer to us than that. Don't look at them."

Makoto gave another nervous little laugh but didn't respond.

Once they stepped past the lights, the forest dimmed considerably. Haruka cast a distrustful look over his shoulder. When they had gone a few steps more, the lights behind them began to blink out in small pockets. It didn't take long before they were left in complete darkness. Makoto made a sort of whimper and his footsteps slowed. Haruka felt himself slowing as well. Without light, without his eyes to guide them through these trees, he worried that they would walk headlong into something. The trees grew so closely together in this part of the trail; it would be dangerous – _foolish_ , even, to keep walking.

His priest's breathing was loud in his ears. In the dark, Haruka expanded his senses as far outward as he could reach, trying to find something. This darkness was unnatural; there had to be something causing it, something that was beyond the canopy of the trees. The mountains couldn't block the sun like this. It had to be magic of some kind.

"Haru," Makoto whispered his name like a warning, pressed tightly against his side. "Haru, can you hear that?"

He strained his ears. Haruka swore he could hear his own pulse thundering away, overloud in the silence. He could hear nothing except a rushing noise like running water, like a particularly angry river or a small waterfall. He didn't expect Makoto to be so distraught over running water; there had to be something else. Haruka tried to listen a little harder, to isolate the sounds of the forest from whatever it was in the background, whatever it was that his priest could hear and he mysteriously could not. "I'm listening."

"It's getting _louder_ ," Makoto hissed, grip tightening.

Haruka's eyes were adjusting slowly to the dim forest lighting. He couldn't see, but he had a feeling his priest's grip on his arm was likely turning his skin an angry, mottled red. Still, he strained his ears and heard nothing more than an overfed stream or high waters lapping at a rocky bank. Distantly Haruka was aware that there was something there, something much larger than whatever he was hearing, but its presence was not yet large or close enough to be cause for alarm. Whatever Makoto could hear, whatever it was that was frightening him so, Haruka could only guess.

It was with an odd sort of fluidity that his priest's fingers slid from his forearm. A faint blue glow emanated from beyond the trees, and suddenly – there, it was there, a rumbling, trembling, the earth shuddering and the trees creaking. Was this what Makoto had heard? Makoto's eyes met his own, and in the faint light, his pupils were dilated wide, lips slightly parted as though he had something to say but the thought had died in his throat, expression caught between fear and – _wonder_?

And then a wave, a tsunami if Haruka had ever seen one, was upon them, and he had hardly any time to grapple for Makoto's wrists before it was crashing over their heads. Ice cold, the water chilled him in a way that Iwatobi's calm waters never had. It took a long moment for rational thought to sink in, that if he didn't protect them in some way, they were going to be tossed against trees and perhaps _die_ , unconscious and broken and sinking beneath water that tore at their skin like icy fingers.

It was almost too cold to function, but Haruka clung to a single thought like a lifeline. _Not real water. Had to be magic. Had to be magic._

Had to be _magic._

Makoto slipped from his grasp. A pair of deep-set, yellow eyes loomed from the wave, and Haruka had never before experienced such a sinking sense of dread. He swore he saw a flash of razor-sharp teeth, triangular and as long as his forearm, closing in over his head, and those eyes flashed brighter, brighter still, and Haruka thrashed and kicked and struggled with the dense water until –

Until his head broke the surface. Trees peppered the surface of the water like an overgrown marsh. This couldn't be real. This had to be some kind of magic. An illusion, maybe? The trees weren't affecting them. No stray branches whipped at his face or limbs. Had the forest been an illusion as well? Was the entire thing a trap? Or perhaps he was just too cold to realize that his arms and legs were being battered by branches and leaves.

The cold numbed his limbs in the same way it numbed his thoughts. Haruka had always been a strong swimmer, but he struggled in this water; his clothes felt like lead weights, and as hard as he kicked, he could hardly keep himself afloat. There was no sign of his priest. There was no sign of Makoto.

 _There was no sign of Makoto_.

Panicked, Haruka tried to fight the wave as it swelled up over the trees beyond his line of sight. A second wave, even more massive than the first, loomed above his head. The yellow eyes flashed in its depths, a silent, hungry promise that motivated him to kick harder, swim faster. Magic sparked over his body, and Haruka concentrated his efforts on creating a sphere, something to surround his body and protect him from the cold and the current. It worked – but only for a moment. The magicked tsunami was sapping his magic the same way the cold was stealing his energy to fight.

There was still no sign of Makoto. Had he been petrified by the water, swept up and under by the powerful undertow? Had he been eaten by the monstrous creature with the enormous teeth and glowing eyes? Haruka tried not to let the panic consume him. Makoto was frightened enough of the ocean without something like _this_.

The wave broke over his head, and he forced his magic to rise to meet it. It proved to be a fruitless endeavor; his head was forced under, and it was a very odd sensation to feel his magic pulled away from his body. Sharp pain erupted in his temples. It felt as though his magic was literally being ripped away from his physical body – and it was so wrong, like muscle torn from bone. Overwhelming pain to accompany his burning lungs.

He couldn't be _drowning_. A Water Knight couldn't _drown_.

His thoughts didn't stop the light from the surface from fading, from water dark and cold closing over his head. Haruka's magic felt pinned, trapped, caged uselessly under the crushing pressure of whatever ancient magic had conjured such an immense tsunami.

Desperately he reached for Makoto's presence, searching even as he sank lower. There – _there_ , it was faint but unmistakable. Makoto was still alive – still trapped under the same crushing pressure, but alive. _But for how much longer_? Haruka couldn't stop the cryptic thought as the last of his air was forced from his lungs.

The pain faded along with his vision, and Haruka could sense nothing else.

* * *

It was through the haze of a pounding headache that he heard voices.

First, higher-pitched, edgier, annoyed. "He could have been _eaten_! You should have done something earlier!"

Haruka's brows twitched. Even with his eyes closed, he recognized that voice.

A pause, then the snappish reply, "Done _what_? It's not like I know how the hell to deal with something _that_ huge!"

An irritated interruption. "Stop! Both of you! We don't have time for this. We still have to find Makoto-senpai."

Makoto's name seemed to bring him to his senses like a cold splash of water. A cold splash of water… Haruka groaned.

"Y-yeah! Wait, is that… Haru-chan! Haru-chan, are you awake?"

Haruka cracked his eyes open. His lashes were crusted with salt. " _Water_ ," he said, voice hoarse.

Directly in his line of sight was a shock of red hair. Rin smirked down at him. "Can't do it yourself?"

"Stop," Rei said impatiently, shoving the redhead aside. "Here, Haruka-senpai. Can you sit up?"

Haruka shoved himself up to his elbows. His shirt hung in wet tatters from his shoulders, and a long gash shone an angry red against his forearm. It stung, but the pain was nothing compared to memory, the feeling of his magic being bodily ripped away from him. Rei pressed a water skin into his hands, and Haruka brought it to his lips. Idly he noted that his hands were trembling. Rei looked on, worried, and Nagisa was not too far behind, peeking beyond the taller boy.

Rin, on the other hand, seemed completely at ease – amused, even. When Haruka turned a blank gaze to him, the redhead bared his teeth in a characteristic smile. It was as though their argument on the hill had never happened.

He took a long swallow of water and then wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. His lips felt dry and cracked, and he could taste the salt all too clearly. " _Where_ is Makoto?" It should have been the first thing out of his mouth, he thought.

Nagisa and Rei did that annoying thing where they exchanged a glance and seemed to come to some sort of understanding, but neither immediately replied.

Rin rocked back on his heels. "Dunno. He wasn't with you? Some knight you are."

Haruka set his mouth into a thin line and didn't respond.

"Mako-chan…" Nagisa started, expression puzzled. "We didn't see him anywhere when the water drained out. I thought you would have known…"

"Tell me what happened," Haruka said sharply, pushing himself all the way up. His back stung, and though he couldn't see, he was willing to bet there were plenty of scratches and welts from being tossed around under water. "I need to know what happened."

Nagisa sat down, one leg crossed over the other and elbows on his knees. "We only saw the end of it… Haru-chan, do you have any idea who could have cast such a huge spell? That wave was the biggest thing I've ever seen!"

For a moment, a flicker of concern passed over Rin's face. "All we saw was you going under and some huge… _thing_."

"It was _huge_ , Haru-chan! As big as a mountain!" Nagisa interjected, windmilling his arms to demonstrate. It had to have been a mark of the monster's size that Rei did not immediately correct him. "We saved you. It was going to eat you, I think… It had its claws in you and everything."

"It wasn't eating you… It…" Rei's expression was politely puzzled, as though he knew the answer but didn't want to voice it in case it was incorrect. "It was stealing your magic first."

"Stealing magic?" Haruka repeated. If anyone had magic ample enough to steal, it was his priest. "We need to find Makoto. _Now_."

Nagisa eyed him warily. "Don't get up too quickly," he warned. "If we hadn't chased that monster off when we did, you'd be… well, your magic…"

Haruka looked down at his hands and flexed his fingers. His skin felt tight – perhaps from the saltwater. Or perhaps it was because he could barely feel his own magic. It was a faint flicker under his skin, a pathetic flame compared to his usual might. Haruka took in a deep breath and swore he could hear it rattling in in his chest.

"I'm fine," he said finally. "If that thing took Makoto –"

Rin was the first to his feet. "He's right, for once. As long as Haru's awake, we should be looking for Makoto." For the first time in over a week, Haruka met Rin's gaze and found no animosity there, only concern for their friend. A moment of hesitation and the redhead stuck out his hand. "Come on."

It was a struggle to get to his feet. His entire body felt sore and tired – and rightly so, Haruka supposed. He had taken quite the underwater beating. "Thanks."

Rin made a noncommittal noise and rolled his shoulders. " _Well_?"

Nagisa was the next to get up, dusting himself off. "Haru-chan, do you have any spare clothes? Won't you catch cold if you walk around like that?"

He looked down at the threadbare shirt that did little to hide the numerous injuries that now littered his person. "My bag's gone." Probably lost to the torrential current.

"It's probably around here somewhere…" Rei surveyed their surroundings with a contemplative look. "The water was contained to the pass between these two mountains. It would have taken a very powerful spell to keep such an enormous wave from spilling over… No ward would have been strong enough to contain that sheer _volume_."

"Figure it out while we walk," Rin snapped his fingers. "We're wasting daylight. Give him a damn shirt – you probably packed about ten too many."

Color bloomed high in Rei's cheeks, and he adjusted his glasses indignantly. "I wouldn't pack something so useless."

"Well, whaddaya know, it's not useless anymore," Rin said breezily. "Can you hurry it up already? If that thing's still around, it can't be too far."

Nagisa's expression darkened slightly. "Are you prepared to fight it again?" The blond's gaze slid sideways. "It's going to be a few days until Haru-chan is back to normal. At least… magic-wise."

Rin adopted a casual pose, hands behind his head and teeth bared. The points reminded Haruka of the monster's mouth, a silent threat. "Tch. Like it stands a chance against me. I got a couple of good hits in before it turned tail, damn coward."

Beside him, Rei cleared his throat and offered over a folded shirt. "Here, Haruka-senpai."

He slid his own top off, relieved to be out of the wet clothing. "Thanks."

Rin tossed a throwaway smirk over his shoulder. "I _said_ we should get going, didn't I?"

This time there were no arguments. The makeshift group fell into step, and Haruka kept his complaints to himself at the way his limbs protested and his skin felt stretched. He tried to expand his senses as they were walking to search for Makoto's presence, but he could hardly manage to expand his magic beyond their small group, let alone use it to search the surrounding area. Nagisa eyed him over his shoulder, mouth pinched in a contemplative frown, but as soon as Haruka looked back, the blond had turned his eyes elsewhere.

Without magic, he felt naked, exposed – and without Makoto's lingering presence, there was a sense of cold emptiness. Haruka rubbed his hands together idly. With a dry shirt, he was warmer, but the cold pit in his stomach had yet to unknot itself. His scratches and bruises added up to a dull ache, but the gash on his arm felt like it was searing white-hot. Salt, probably. Salt in the wound.

"I'll keep searching," Rin said briskly after they had started out, and the redhead's presence expanded over them like a blanket.

Haruka said nothing, merely willed his magic to regenerate faster.

* * *

It was only some time later that Haruka realized he had never bothered to ask why Rin, Rei, and Nagisa had been present in the first place. It had been an easy question to forget, consumed with worry about Makoto in the way that he was. How had he managed to fail so spectacularly as a knight? How had he managed to let something so _large_ slip past his notice? If the others' explanation had been anything to go off of, it couldn't have been helped.

"Well, _someone_ had to keep an eye out for you!" Nagisa declared with a wink. "And see? I was right, wasn't I?"

"Oi, oi, don't try to play this off like it was all some noble thing," Rin shook his head. "You probably just wanted a chance to spy."

"And you didn't?" Nagisa shot back. " _You_ were the one that jumped at the chance to come –"

"Tch, did anyone ask you?" Rin bared his teeth in something like a snarl and gave Nagisa a shove.

The blond stumbled, laughing, but didn't pick back up his train of thought. "Rin-chan! Don't be so mean!"

Haruka tried to generate a spark of magic between his fingertips again, the same way he had been trying for the hours previously. A weak flare passed between his hands, but it was nothing near as powerful as his usual practice. He had nothing to say to that. Whatever the reason, he appreciated the fact that his friends had been present and had, well, saved him. They should have saved Makoto instead, in Haruka's opinion, but there was no reason to voice those thoughts, either. He kept mostly silent as they walked, stumbling only occasionally when his concentration on his fading magic overtook his attention to their surroundings.

Rin was the only one to scoff in those few times. Rei had taken to shooting the redhead very ugly looks every time he rolled his eyes. Nagisa made the head of the group, swinging a pack from his hand and whistling. Every so often, a flock of birds – how had they not been affected by the spell, Haruka wondered – was startled from their perch atop the trees as they thundered through underbrush, but daylight did reach them now, not the way it hadn't before the attack.

He had finally gotten all of the details about the tsunami and the monster as well. Nagisa had described the way the wave seemed to appear out of nowhere, flooding the basin that formed the mountain pass. A giant creature had coiled its way around one of the mountains, roaring and flapping some sort of great tail. A second wave had followed the first, and it was only by chance that they happened to see Haruka's magic swelling up to meet the monster. Rin had interrupted then, recounting how they had had to drive the monster back before it could drain Haruka's magic completely. It had eaten the magic whole – and it looked like the thing was going to eat Haruka next, he said, but they had stopped it.

Then, all three described a brilliant, blinding light and the rumbling of what sounded like thunder. Nagisa swore it was as though one of the mountains had cracked in half to absorb all of that water back into it, but no one knew exactly what had happened. Whatever the case, Rin had driven the monster back, and the water had drained. The sea creature had disappeared beyond the bend of one of the far mountains without even a trace of its presence left behind.

Makoto's magic, on the other hand, was littered between the trees like a breadcrumb trail, but they had yet to find anything larger than those crumbs. The fact that the magic was still present was in itself a good sign, Rei had said quietly; the magic was so potent and still so powerful that Makoto _had_ to be alive.

After some time, the golden thread he and Makoto had been following flickered back into existence. Haruka traced a fingertip along the light. This time it was solid. Whatever spell the woods had been under had to have been broken. Daylight trickled through the treetops, some damaged from the wave, and the thread glimmered. His arm throbbed with every step and every beat of his magic, an odd sensation. Haruka ignored it. It wasn't important enough to keep him from looking for his priest.

"What's that?" Nagisa asked curiously, bounding over to where the knight had fallen still.

"It was guiding us," Haruka said quietly. "We were following it."

Rei was next to swoop in, fingertips hovering above the light, cautious as ever. "Following it?"

"That's what he _said_ ," Rin said aggressively.

Rei bent closer to look closely at the thread. "Well, it's not evil," he declared, straightening back up. "It seems very ancient. Do you think…? Haruka-senpai, can you try to move it?"

It seemed like such a simple request; Haruka hadn't thought to see if he could affect the string, only thought to follow it. He pinched the light between two fingers and drew it back like a bowstring, but when he released it, the thread only bounced back into place. Rei tried to mimic him, but the light would not budge. It seemed as though Rei could not even touch the substance. Haruka tried again, just to prove that it wasn't a fluke. Behind them, Rin looked on, expression oddly hungry.

"It's responding to Haruka-senpai… It has to be real." Rei sighed, shaking his head. "I can't say for certain…"

"If it's responding to the knight, it should be the temple, mm?" Nagisa grinned, poking at the golden thread. "Aw, I can't touch it, either!"

"Stop that," Rei said, swatting the blond's hand away. "I can't be positive…"

"Oi, the light goes that way, right?" Rin interrupted. Haruka was getting a little tired of these constant interruptions, but he turned to look at the direction the redhead was pointing regardless. The thread disappeared off into the distance. "I can sense Makoto."

Haruka hoped his expression didn't betray the sudden sensation of his stomach dropping. "How far."

Rin shrugged. "Dunno."

" _Look harder_."

The other boy cocked a brow. "I'm _working on it_." A beat later, he continued. "The trail kinda comes together along that thread. You think it could be the temple?"

Haruka took off in the direction of the thread without waiting for the answer. His friends caught up quickly, trailing behind him.

"I can sense something big," Rin said, and his voice had lost that angry bite. "Really big." There was a pause, a shuffle. "Not the monster, idiot. I'd tell you if it was."

"The temple," Haruka responded without looking back. "I can sense it, too."

It was the truth; despite having had most of his magic ripped away during the attack, Haruka could still sense something looming ahead of them. An ancient, benevolent presence – it had to be the temple. What else could have been tucked away in such a remote location? That raised other questions. Had the temple inhabitants attacked them, thinking them intruders or demons or evildoers? Perhaps they had taken Makoto hostage without realizing who he was. The thought, while not the most pleasant, gave him hope. Because _there_ – there it was.

Flickering, but still burning as hot and bright as a star, was Makoto's presence. Haruka quickened his pace, ignoring the burning pain in his arm. It had gotten steadily worse as they walked, but he had ignored it in favor of contributing to the search for Makoto. Now that he had been found – or, at least, his presence located – the pain was returning with full force.

"Haru-chan?" Nagisa was suddenly at his side. "Haru-chan. Hey. Can you hear me?"

Haruka felt himself sway. "I –"

"Come on, we're almost there." Rin's urgings fell on deaf ears. " _Tch_ , are you even listening to me?"

His friends' voices were muffled, like he was underwater again. Like he was sinking beneath those cold waves, drowning but eaten alive.

" _Haru_!"

Haruka saw more than felt the ground rising to meet him, and for the second time that day, darkness claimed his vision.


	11. Murky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE – I refer to characters by given name, not family/surname. That means Nitori will forever be Aiichirou (even as odd as I find it to refer to him as such!). Er. (Not-so-spoiler alert) Welcome to the crew, Nitori..?
> 
> Also note (jeez I am full of side notes today) – some of these acolytes will be OCs. They will have very, very minor roles. The Free! cast is fairly limited, especially in regard to female characters, so I've taken the liberty of creating a few people to further the plot.
> 
> This chapter got long because I feel bad. I've been popping out of the country and without internet for a while, so obligatory excuse blah, blah here's the chapter.

The first thing he noticed when he finally became aware of his surroundings was that it was surprisingly soft.

A cool hand pressed against his forehead, gentle words murmured in an unfamiliar voice.

Makoto tried to open his eyes and found that he couldn't, that his lids were too heavy to obey his desire to see who was speaking. The words were garbled, running together, perhaps slurred. Was it a token of what had happened that he couldn't hear clearly, or was the stranger speaking in a foreign tongue? A warm cloth replaced the cool hand, droplets of water beading along his temples and sliding into his hair. It tickled and itched, but Makoto found he hadn't the voice to say so.

Was he dead?

A sudden surge of panic gripped him with fingers as icy as the waters that had nearly drowned them. Makoto felt his body tense – a good sign; at least he wasn't paralyzed or something equally unappealing – and immediately the cool hand was back, this time resting on his shoulder.

"Relax," he managed to make out. A gentle voice spoke slowly enough for him to hear properly. "Please. You're safe here."

 _Haru_ , he wanted to say. _What about Haru_?

The unfamiliar voice didn't reply – not that Makoto had expected it to – and after a moment, the touch retreated. The gentle voice did not speak again, and Makoto was left in a state of unease.

The question surfaced again. _Am I dead_?

Makoto wracked his brain. What could he remember? There had been a massive wave, but before that – horrible, horrible noise. Nothing like he had ever heard before. It had been a gravelly voice, chanting in a strange language, and it had echoed in his ears, bounced around in his mind over and over again. The ringing hadn't stopped until the water appeared, and the water – the wave, it had crushed him as easily as it had the trees around them. Makoto remembered feeling helpless as Haruka's fingers had slipped from his wrist, the current wrenching them apart. He had no magical control with which to fight such a strong force. He had no experience using the water to his advantage, and this water resisted his touch, too cold, too dark, too deep to respond to his urgings or his harried pleas.

What else could he remember? He thought harder, struggling to come to some sort of conclusion. Even under water, he had still been able to see. Makoto remembered blinking in the depths, fingertips straining for the water's surface. Light had disappeared as the water closed over his head, shrinking to a tiny circle the size of the full moon, taunting him with its distance. Makoto remembered his lungs burning from lack of air. He remembered his magic exploding outward in response, destroying some creature in the process. It had been thin and long, scales pressed tightly against his limbs to keep him immobile as he sank. An underwater snake, perhaps? Something that had been trying to squeeze the air from his lungs and make him a meal?

Makoto shuddered at the thought. After he had destroyed the odd creature, he had tried to break for the surface. It hadn't worked; every fiber of his being had protested, lungs screaming for much-needed oxygen.

He couldn't remember falling unconscious under the water. He could, however, remember a bright flash of light and the water suddenly parting over his head. He remembered that first, sweet gasp of air, crystal clear and purer than anything he had ever tasted. He remembered the water falling from around him, disappearing, melting away. A fishlike creature flopped on what had previously been their forest path, its body littered with spines that were deep purple and maliciously sharp. The pieces of the sea snake he had destroyed oozed both dark and pungent blood, having fallen around what looked like a scorched circle on the ground.

He remembered that breath of air, and then – nothing.

Perhaps he could remember nothing because he had fallen back into sleep. It was impossible to tell how much time had passed, but the next time Makoto jolted from unconscious to startlingly awake was as another warm cloth was draped across his forehead.

The same gentle voice shushed him. "Easy… You're fine. Just fine."

Makoto felt himself relax. This time, when he tried to work his throat, it responded. "Who…?"

"Ah! You can talk again!" It was a male voice, Makoto decided. Young. Earnest. "Try not to strain yourself, alright? Let me fetch you something to drink."

When he willed his fingers to move, to reach for the retreating sound of another person, he could pick his hand up. The steady improvements in his condition heartened him. A few moments later, the stranger returned, and a cool glass was pressed to his lips.

"Careful," the man said. "Drink slowly."

Makoto obeyed, taking a small sip and then another when it eased his dry throat. He coughed once, turning his head away. "Who… are you?" His tongue felt heavy and uncomfortable in his mouth, thick from disuse or maybe swollen. "Am I…" He didn't want to say it out loud for fear that the words would make it true, but Makoto barreled on before he could change his mind. He needed to know. "Am I dead?"

The stranger gave a startled laugh. Makoto was too tired to be offended. "Dead? No, no. You're just fine. Definitely alive. Here, do you think you can…?"

A soft touch along his temples, and then the cloth was lifted from his skin completely. Makoto realized that it had been covering his eyes all along; with the heavy weight gone, he could finally open them. It took a few blinks to bring the world into focus, but he could make out a dim room and an unlit window beyond the stranger seated next to him.

He turned his attention to the stranger and nearly balked. It was a face he recognized. Short, silver hair, pale skin, a half-smile.

He struggled to form the words. "You're…"

The silver-haired man canted his head to one side, brows furrowed and smile concerned. "Yes? You should rest some more before you try to talk… You haven't fully recovered."

Makoto shook his head, desperate for the other to understand. It was difficult to form the words, to speak. "Water… water spirit."

It took a moment for the words to sink in. "Ah. No!" he said quickly. "No, that's not. That's not me." The man – boy was a better word, really; he looked as young as himself or Haruka – gave another little laugh. "I'm not the spirit." The confusion must have been obvious in his expression, for the boy hastily continued, "But I promise I can explain everything later. For now… please rest."

It was not a satisfying answer, but it was one Makoto had to accept as he felt the tiredness again wash over him. The boy peered down at him, blue eyes reminding him at once of Haruka. Makoto had so many questions, but suddenly, the thought of asking seemed impossible. For now, he would follow the stranger's advice and rest, and perhaps when he felt as though he could move without struggling with his own limbs, then he would have his questions addressed.

Instead, he turned his attention to their surroundings. It was a plain room; the walls were white and smooth, and a circular window on the far wall was pulled closed. A low table sat next to where he laid, a basin of steaming water contained atop it and a cold glass resting next to the dish. It was a struggle to move his hand, but the blankets under his fingers were soft and warm. A pillow was propped beneath his neck, and Makoto assumed what he lay on was a futon; in any case, it was much more comfortable than the ones he and Haruka had used at the ryokan a few days earlier.

The silver-haired stranger watched him carefully, mouth curling into a smile when Makoto turned his gaze back to him. "You should be able to get up by this evening," he said, hands clasped. "Everyone will be pleased to hear your condition is improving!"

Makoto tried to nod, but the motion was painful. Who was everyone? As a matter of fact, _where_ was he?

Before he could ask, the stranger got to his feet, patting out the lower half of his robes. His clothing resembled the ceremonial garb of the Water Temple, though a long, blue sash was draped across his chest and looped around his midriff. If Makoto remembered correctly, the shrine maiden from Okayama had worn a similar outfit as well. Could this be? Had he somehow managed to reach their temple destination? Was that even _possible_?

"I'll be back later with something for you to eat," the other boy said with a slight bow. "Until then, please do your best to recover!"

The stranger headed for the door, sliding it open and slipping beyond Makoto's line of vision. He was left alone with his thoughts and the faint but soothing sound of a summer bird's song.

* * *

By the time the stranger had returned – and Makoto had no idea how much time later it was; it was still very difficult to tell when he kept drifting in and out of sleep – he was feeling much better. Makoto had been able to sit up, propping himself against the wall to which his futon had been flush against, and he had had half a mind to drag himself to the window and try to figure out where he was.

The silver-haired boy entered the room again not too long after Makoto had found the strength to sit upright; he carried a tray with both hands, a bowl of rice and a delicately ridged cup of what he assumed to be tea all he could make out from his vantage point on the floor.

"You're looking much better!" the stranger said happily, setting the tray down and then seating himself on a cushion near the futon. "Please eat!"

Makoto eyed the food warily. It was fairly simple; a bowl of rice, broth, and a few steamed vegetables along with the tea. He took the rice and chopsticks and started to pick at the food. Nothing was oddly colored, and everything _smelled_ normal enough. Likely not poisoned, right? They wouldn't bother to heal him and take care of him only to poison him later. He couldn't shake the memory of being held under by the demon wearing that boy's face, clawing for air. Being chosen by the Water Spirit seemed to involve him drowning quite often, Makoto mused.

"Ah!" The boy suddenly clapped his hands together, expression startled. "I'm so sorry! I never told you my name!"

Makoto stopped with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. "I haven't told you mine, either." It was much easier to talk after resting all afternoon. A sip of tea and a few more of water and his throat no longer felt like sandpaper.

"My name is Nitori Aiichirou." After a moment, Aiichirou continued, "You're Tachibana-senpai, right? Your friends told me. They want to see you."

"My… friends?" Makoto paused again. The food was never going to make it to his mouth at this rate. "What do you mean?"

Aiichirou canted his head slightly to the left again. "Ah… Your knight. And the group that brought him here."

"Where is _here_?" Makoto interrupted, feeling uncharacteristically impatient. "Please explain."

The silver-haired boy rocked back, expression contemplative. "Well… What do you remember? That might make it easier for me to explain."

Makoto recounted what he could dredge up quickly between bites of rice, and, once finished, surveyed the other boy with slightly furrowed brows. Aiichirou had listened attentively, nodding in all the right places. More than anything, though, Makoto wanted to know what he had meant by _friends_. Had someone followed them? Had they been brought to a strange location with whoever else had been swept up in the tsunami through the pass?

After a moment of silence, Aiichirou nodded once, twice. "I'll do my best – and I'll try to be brief."

The brunet nodded, turning his attention to the soup and tea. The bowl was still warm under his fingertips, and he cupped it cautiously. The spoon rattled against the side, his hands trembling enough to disrupt the even surface.

"First, welcome to the Elements," Aiichirou started with a faint smile. "It seems as though you've managed to find your destination."

The relief that played over his face must have been practically palpable; Aiichirou smiled a little wider. Makoto dropped his gaze to the rice, picking at a stray strand with his spoon before returning to the soup and taking a quiet sip, half to busy himself as the other boy spoke.

"You – you called me the spirit, correct?" When Makoto nodded again, the other continued. "I can explain that, too." There was another pause; it appeared as though Aiichirou was collecting his thoughts. "Several weeks ago, the temple was attacked. It isn't common for demons to attack us; there are too many acolytes to make it worthwhile, usually. But a few weeks ago…" A moment of hesitation, then, "Well, there were fewer of us than usual. Somehow, a demon knew to take advantage. As you are probably aware, this temple is shrine to all the elemental spirits, not only the Water Spirit. But…"

"Something happened?" Makoto supplied softly. It seemed as though the other boy needed the prompt.

"Yes… It was… It was a shapeshifter – an unusually powerful one. It would have had to be, and cunning, too, to get past the barriers that protect this place." A slight sigh. "We were outclassed. Our most powerful spellcasters were busy tending to a village some distance from here. None of the other spirits are as active as Water, you see, and…" Aiichirou looked up from where he had been twisting his fingers in his lap; his expression was a mixture of determined and sheepish, all at once. "I happened to be at the altar when the attack began. The Water Spirit used my body as a medium to defend us from the demon, and I suppose… I suppose the demon could have seen my face and assumed I _was_ the spirit. Even though I'm not."

The other boy's eyes dipped from Makoto's face to his arm, and the priest could practically feel the intensity of the stare. "So… The spirit possessed you, Nitori-san?"

"Something like that!" Aiichirou said without missing a beat. "A bit more complicated than simple possession."

Makoto wasn't sure of the difference between a simple possession and any other kind of possession ( _were_ there other kinds?), so he again busied himself with taking a few bites of the offered meal.

"The demon managed to escape before the spirit could land a finishing blow," Aiichirou continued, perhaps not noticing Makoto's brief discomfort. "So it is highly likely that it was the one who attacked you and your knight earlier. I don't think any other demon would have used my face like that…"

"What about my knight?" Makoto interrupted. "I… Is Haru okay?"

The silver-haired boy's smile was slower this time. "He'll be fine. You might be stuck at the temple for a few days longer, so he can recover, but…"

"Recover?" he repeated, hoping his voice hadn't suddenly become quite as shrill as it sounded in his own ears. "From _what_?"

Aiichirou opened his mouth, then sighed as though he wasn't sure how to answer. "The tsunami… Whoever it was knew how to use our barrier against us. The temple is surrounded like most towns, but if a spell is cast _inside_ the barrier, like that wave… there isn't anything to let it out without disabling the barrier entirely. And that's dangerous."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"Your knight... The creature that attacked you both is an ancient from the depths of the ocean. It has no name, but its teeth are coated in a very potent poison, and its eyes are said to paralyze anyone who looks too long into them. I'm sure you understand how that feels; the effects have been wearing off of you, too, now that you can move again." Aiichirou paused once more. "We know Nanase-senpai was poisoned, but he has so little magic right now that the antidote is taking longer to reverse the damage."

" _How_?" Makoto struggled with the word, hands trembling too much to hold the soup bowl any longer. He replaced it on the tray with a clatter. "I mean…"

"Don't worry!" Aiichirou said quickly. "We're treating him! I promise, senpai, he'll be fine."

Makoto teetered on unease; the silver-haired boy was earnest, and his smile was kind, but he himself knew too little about magic to put much stock in what he had been told. Makoto wasn't sure if any of it was even true, and there had been no mention of other friends.

Before he could ask, the door along the far wall was again slid open. A taller man – boy? – with hair perhaps even redder than Rin's looked from Makoto to the other boy and then back again. "Oh! Priest's awake! That's great. Nitori, they need you at your shrine."

Aiichirou was quick to jump to his feet. "I apologize, Tachibana-senpai, but I'll have to explain everything else later!" He bowed, the blue sash around his middle loose enough to reveal several folded papers. They looked not unlike curse seals. "Please enjoy your meal."

The boy who had interrupted did not stick around long enough for the brunet to ask any more questions, and Makoto was left alone with the tray of food. Largely, however, Makoto found he had lost his appetite.

* * *

After he had finished eating, Makoto found it was significantly easier to move his arms and legs. Even his fingers felt more responsive; fine motor movements no longer eluded him the way they had several hours prior. It took a few tries to drag himself to his feet, but Makoto eventually managed.

His first move was to the window. The shoji was not latched, but he still slid it open carefully. The brunet braced himself against the window frame, leaning heavily against the wall in order to examine their location. The summer bird's song was louder now, and the air was cool and refreshing. Makoto could see trees, but that was nothing special. It looked as though they were some distance up the side of a mountain; the tree line sloped gently downward. The air was cooler here, too. Makoto took in a deep breath, grimacing when his chest twinged somewhat painfully, and then drew back to close the window. On the horizon, the sun was slowly starting its descent. Did that mean only a few hours had passed since he and Haruka had been attacked? It felt like much longer. There was no way to tell for sure.

Makoto slid the window shut and then padded carefully to the door through which he had seen both Aiichirou and the redhead boy disappear. This he opened just as cautiously. It looked typical enough; wooden floors were polished smooth, and there were more doors lining the wall. Makoto stepped out, wishing he had something to cover his feet. The wood was cold, and it felt improper to be wandering around barefoot.

He was tired of waiting for someone to come back and tell him what was going on, however, so Makoto struck out along the hall, looking for any sign of a familiar face – or any signs of life at all, really. The end of the hallway branched out in both directions; Makoto paused at the fork, realizing that he could feel something beyond his immediate vicinity. Sensing with magic was still a slightly foreign sensation, but this took much less effort than he had required previously. Did that mean he had improved some? Perhaps when he found Haruka he would know for sure.

The sensation itself was almost comforting. It was as though he could feel heat from a burning fire but on a much smaller scale – several flames flickered farther down the hall that branched to the right, and when the brunet closed his eyes, he could visualize it, though the flames in his mind's eye were a deep blue instead of traditional orange. Two presences, both vaguely familiar. Makoto started down the hall before he could second-guess himself.

He hadn't made it far when another person exited an attached room. A girl with a long blonde plait paused in her tracks. "Ah! Are you… priest-san? You must be!" She dropped immediately into a bow. She wore an outfit similar in style to Nitori, though hers was missing the sash. "Apologies! I didn't mean to startle you!"

Makoto took a hesitant step back, bowing as well. "No, please, I… I was just exploring," he confided. "I'm a bit turned around."

The girl straightened up, looking somewhat appalled. Makoto wasn't entirely sure why; he hadn't said anything inappropriate. "Nitori-kun was taking care of you, right?"

"Yes," he said slowly. "But he was called away, so…"

"My name is Shima Tae!" the girl said in his pause, bowing again. "Please, priest-san, allow me to assist you!"

Slightly taken aback, Makoto nodded. "Um… alright, then."

Tae straightened up with a bright smile. "Are you trying to locate your friends?"

Makoto tried for a gesture, feeling useless. "Yes, I thought… they were this way…?"

The blonde's expression scrunched up for a moment, as though she was concentrating hard. "No… I'm sorry; you must have been sensing the shrine. You must be drawn to it!" She smiled again, gesturing for Makoto to follow. "This way, priest-san!"

"Tachibana Makoto," he corrected. "And thank you, Shima-san."

The girl beamed over her shoulder. "Of course! It's no trouble!"

Makoto fell into step beside her, and for a moment, Tae looked startled, like she couldn't believe he wanted to walk next to her. "Are you a water student, Shima-san?"

She nodded eagerly. "Yes! The spirit hasn't contacted me the way it has Nitori-kun, but… perhaps someday I can be of some use." Her braid bounced between her shoulder blades, tied off with a shimmering blue ribbon. "Your allies seem very powerful. I can't imagine how strong knight-san must be!"

"I'm not sure," Makoto confided. "I don't think I've ever seen him fight seriously." He didn't mention that he wasn't actually sure who these supposed powerful allies were. Could one of these other people have been responsible for taking care of that monster? Or had it been Nitori? Those questions he kept to himself. It was true, though. Whenever they were in trouble, there seemed to be something that separated him from his knight. He had seen Haruka spar, of course, but that was a far cry from a serious battle.

"Never?" Tae repeated. "That must be impossible! Does knight-san not fight?"

"Oh, he does. I'm just not sure I've ever been around when he's been at full strength."

Tae looked at him with brows slightly furrowed. "Ah. He must have trained hard if you have no idea of his full strength. It's very difficult to conceal magic!"

"I know," Makoto agreed. "I'm not very good at it yet."

"Perhaps if you train with us, you might improve? I'm sure here wouldn't be as good as the Water Temple, but… It is certainly a place of power!"

The brunet nodded slowly. That was true; even with his limited abilities he could feel the gentle thrum of power that surrounded them in the walls, the floor, the ceiling. The very structure of the temple was imbued with an ancient presence, and he could feel it as clearly as if there was someone walking between himself and Tae as they traversed the halls. Belatedly, Makoto scolded himself for not paying more attention to the path they had taken. How would he be expected to find his way back to the room in which he had awoken?

There seemed to be no difference in the style of the hallway when Tae started to slow. "Well, Tachibana-san, if you continue down this hall, it should take you to the guest wing. Your friends and knight-san should be resting there."

"Thank you for your help," Makoto said sincerely, bowing again. "I appreciate it, Shima-san."

The girl's cheeks lit up with a blush, and she looked away. "It's the least I could do."

"Oh – if you see Nitori-san, can you please let him know where I've gone?" _I don't think I was supposed to have left_ , he wanted to say. "I wouldn't want him to worry," he said instead.

Tae nodded. "Of course! I will be sure to tell him." The blonde was rooted to the spot as he started down the hall unaccompanied. "Um. It was nice to meet you, priest-san!"

"You as well," Makoto said with a smile over his shoulder. "Good luck with your training!"

When he next looked back, Tae was skittering back down the hallway the way they had come, cheeks dusted with pink. Makoto continued, expanding his senses again. He was surprised by how much control he suddenly had over his magic, but then, the temple was a place of ancient magics and powerful spells. It probably helped; Tae had to be right.

There was only one door open, and he paused in front of it. Three familiar faces were gathered around a table and a fourth person laid out on a futon. Somber expressions aside, Makoto felt his heart soar as he recognized everyone within.

Nagisa was the first to notice him lingering in the doorway. "Mako-chan!" he bellowed, scrambling to his feet and attaching himself to Makoto's waist. "You're okay!"

Rin and Rei were slower but no less enthused. "Makoto-senpai! They told us you wouldn't be up until much later today."

Makoto smiled, feeling the stirrings of guilt somewhere in the pit of his stomach. Not the time to overanalyze. "I'm sorry… They didn't tell me you were all here. Is Haru-chan…?"

"He's recovering," Rei answered quickly before Nagisa could say something perhaps insensitive. "He's just asleep right now."

True to the other's word, Haruka's expression was blank and peaceful. Even Nagisa's shout hadn't woken him, which was a far cry from Haruka's usual attentive nature. When they had been camping in the woods, Haruka had always been the first person awake. Every time Makoto rolled over, his knight had been alert enough to defend them from any pressing danger, even asleep. His magic was still watchful, a constant and reassuring presence, and to see Haruka like this, almost dead to the world, was weird, to say the least.

"What _happened_?" Makoto sucked in a quick breath as he caught sight of Haruka's arm. His fingertips were tinged with purple, and a gaping wound shone sickly red against his pale forearm. Dark lines crisscrossed under his skin until the shoulder, where his sleeve had been torn off. The ragged edges made the damage look even more severe. "Are you _sure_ he's okay?"

Rei's mouth pinched in a frown. "They let me examine the antidote… So far, they haven't done anything out of line."

"That doesn't make me feel better!" Makoto said, hating the way his voice was acquiring that certain shrillness again, the way it usually did when he was too worried to conceal it. " _What happened_?"

Nagisa hid a smile behind his hand and leaned over to stage-whisper to Rin. "See? Told ya he'd be worried."

Rin scowled but had no words to contribute.

Rei was the first one to give him a solid answer. "Well… We saw him get attacked by some sort of creature." The other boy hesitated. "I thought you would have seen."

" _I_ drove it off," Rin interrupted. Makoto expected him to look smug; instead, the redhead's expression was troubled. "We had to drive the thing off to get to Haru. He seemed okay for a little bit, but then…."

"He just fell over!" Nagisa contributed. "We didn't know what to do! Good thing we were so close to the temple already, huh?" He grinned. "Otherwise, might've been bad!"

Makoto was too worried to be irritated by the playful tone with which Nagisa spoke. He crouched next to his knight, pressing the back of his hand against Haruka's forehead. His face was warm but not burning, a lingering fever clinging to the skin. Makoto withdrew his hand and sat down heavily. He could sense Haruka's presence, which was odd in itself, but he could also sense the presences of his friends now that they were all in the same room. It was like being surrounded by flickering and comfortable flame, warmth and a friendly aura blanketing his body. His friends' presences were large and lively, but Haruka's flame was flickering somewhere deep within his chest, weak and sickly.

"But they promised he'd be okay?" Makoto asked faintly, guilt bubbling up again. If he had been stronger, Haruka wouldn't have had to protect him. If he hadn't been completely mesmerized by the shimmer of magic in the air, they could have escaped. Couldn't they have? "He just needs a few days to recover?"

His friends were quiet for a moment. "They told us that he just needs a few days to work the poison out of his system," Rei said finally. "He's already improved a lot. He looked a lot worse when we first brought him here."

"It really is lucky that Rin-chan could fight off the monster!" Nagisa said with a slight bounce. "Otherwise it would've been pret-ty bad!"

Makoto looked back to Rin, who was staring so hard at the table that he might as well have been burning holes in the thing. "Thank you," he said, gently, as though if he said it too sincerely, Rin might be irritated enough to walk out.

The redhead's only answer was a noncommittal shrug and an irritated _tch_. Makoto didn't push.

"I'm glad everyone else is okay," Makoto said earnestly, trying and failing to keep his eyes from drifting back to Haruka. "I didn't realize we were so close to the temple… I spoke with, um, Nitori-san, but he got called away, so I haven't had a chance to ask a lot of questions… I didn't know you all were behind us, either."

"We were at least a day behind you and Haruka-senpai," Rei clarified. "I'm not surprised."

To Makoto's surprise, it was Rin who piped up next. "You can sense us now, though." It wasn't a question; the redhead's voice was flat. "The temple's probably doing something for you."

Makoto blinked once, twice. "Ah… Yes, I can. How can you tell?"

Rin gave a jerk of his shoulder. "It's _obvious_."

Nagisa let out a wild bark of laughter, jostling the table as he pulled himself closer to it. "C'mon, let's talk about what we're gonna do after this! D'ya think they'd let us train at the temple?"

"What do you mean _us_?" Rin rolled his eyes, an overdramatic, fluttery gesture. " _You_ can't do magic."

"I can do _some_!" the blond protested. "I'm not _useless_!"

Makoto felt another slight stab of guilt. _Useless_ , huh? He really was the only one in their group of friends who wasn't even remotely qualified to have been chosen. The only magic he knew was what Haruka had taught him as they sat together on the steps leading down to the calm Iwatobi shore. Makoto looked down at his hands, twining his fingers nervously and resisting the urge to glance at Haruka again. His stomach was twisting itself into knots, but no one brought up what had happened to Haruka or the Water Spirit again for the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

It wasn't until sometime later, when Nagisa had started to complain about being hungry and Rei was doing his best to placate him with tea, that their somewhat happy reunion was interrupted.

Aiichirou appeared in the doorway, hair mussed and out of breath. "Ah! Tachibana-senpai! I've been looking everywhere for you!" He lingered in the door for a moment, expression flickering as he tried to catch his breath.

Makoto stood, intending to meet him halfway. "I'm sorry!" He smiled, feeling a little sheepish. "I wasn't sure when you'd be back, so I just meant to do a bit of exploring, but…"

"Can I speak to you for a moment?" Aiichirou asked, gesturing to the hallway. "I'm sorry; my business at the altar took much longer than I thought… I meant to be back for you quickly." He smiled. "It should only take a moment."

His three friends were quiet. Makoto glanced back at them; Rei was watching Aiichirou with a slightly puzzled expression, and Nagisa was slurping noisily at a cup of tea. Rin merely looked bored, as though there was nothing in this ancient temple that could possibly have interested him; he hadn't contributed much to their conversation, either, except for the occasional snide comment. Makoto assumed the redhead was still adjusting to the idea that he hadn't been chosen. He could sympathize; he and Rin had both been shunted into positions they hadn't foreseen.

"I'll be right back," Makoto said over his shoulder. Nagisa raised a hand to wave.

In the hallway, Aiichirou smoothed down the front of his robe and clasped his hands together. "Tachibana-senpai," he started, then paused. "I was wondering if you would accompany me to the site where the summoning took place. There may be enough residue for you to identify... If it's familiar, then we may know which enemy is targeting us – and your knight." He bowed his head slightly, silver hair falling forward. "I unfortunately have no memory of when we were attacked. Posessions have a way of making memories unclear."

"No, I – I don't mind," Makoto said earnestly. "I'm not very good at sensing things, though… I'm not sure how much help I'll be."

Aiichirou smiled again, a little softer. The expression suited him. "Don't worry, senpai. I can guide you through some of the basics if you aren't yet accustomed to using magic."

Makoto smiled back uneasily. "If you think it's worth trying, I'll go."

"A summoning that large would have left some trace of magic behind. The longer we wait, though, the more it will fade..." Aiichirou sighed, shaking his head. "I wouldn't ask you if I had any other options."

 _Useless_ , Makoto thought with another slight pang of guilt. "No, I'd like to try."

"Let me check on Nanase-senpai first, and then we'll go," Aiichirou stepped around him and entered the room, kneeling next to Haruka. Rin, Rei, and Nagisa all fell abruptly silent. "It looks like the antidote is taking well! It shouldn't be too much longer before he'll wake up again." The other boy paused, then turned to address the three at the table. "Thank you for keeping an eye on him… Please tell me if anything changes?"

"You got it, boss!" Nagisa said with a wave. "You can count on us!"

It was Aiichirou's turn to look politely puzzled. "Well… thank you."

Makoto lingered a step behind, staring hard at Haruka. The color was slowly returning to his knight's cheeks, but his arm was still a strange, sickly color. The tips of his fingers were starting to turn purple, an ugly, bruised color. Aiichirou didn't seem to think it was any cause for concern, and when the other boy swept past him, Makoto lingered for only a moment more to wave at his friends.

With a last, long glance at Haruka and a pang of guilt at his current condition, Makoto pulled himself away the doorway and turned down the hall. For a moment, he was quiet. Aiichirou said nothing, either, and it was much easier to navigate the temple's twists and turns with someone who knew the way. It took much longer to get outside than Makoto had anticipated.

His friends' flames were flickering slightly as they got farther and farther away. Haruka's flame was weakest of all, but it wasn't flickering the way the others' were.

"Tachibana-senpai," Aiichirou said lightly, interrupting his concentration. Makoto felt the flames extinguished all at once, as though a sharp gust of wind had blown them all out. "Please put out your hand for me?"

Makoto opened his eyes, blinking slowly. He had been so deep in concentration, trying to sense the presences of his friends, that he hadn't even realized he had closed them. Aiichirou was standing with the palm of his hand pressed against a slight indentation in the wall. A small, half circle, just large enough for another hand, was a short distance away, on the other side of what appeared to be a large door. It was seamless, however, and a deep, undulating shade of blue that looked almost like waves. It reminded him of the pattern coiled around Haruka's arms and the way it glowed, a soft light, when his knight used magic.

"Place your hand against that disk and concentrate," Aiichirou instructed. "Close your eyes if that helps you. Do you know what it feels like to gather magic?"

He closed his eyes, remembering Haruka's hands covering his own that first night in the woods, remembering the crawling sensation of magic prickling along his arms and trickling down the back of his neck. Makoto squeezed his eyes shut a little tighter, trying _not_ to think about flushed skin and a warm mouth.

The magic overflowed from his fingertips. A lighted pattern etched into the wall began to glow, and then the door was split by a massive line. An outline flowed around the wall, giving the door clear shape, and then it opened, slowly at first but with increasing speed. Steps led down from the door, and they merged seamlessly with a dirt path. Even the air seemed to shimmer here with the force of magic. Makoto lowered his hand slowly, enthralled by the sight. It was enchanting – surreal, even. Aiichirou stepped down, and the edge of his robe fluttered in a slight breeze. It was warm and balmy, and the trees rustled.

At the bottom of the steps, Aiichirou paused. "This way, please."

Makoto lowered his hand slowly and followed, stepping carefully from the temple to the dirt path. It felt like a weight settled over his shoulders, a tangible humidity in the air. Makoto could practically taste the water on his tongue.

"This door was made for water acolytes," the other boy explained as they walked. "It only opens for those compatible with water magic. You have a lot of magic, so the door opened a lot faster than it does usually…" Aiichirou gave a quick smile over his shoulder. "The spirit is feeding you a lot of energy. It must be overwhelming."

"Ah – is that how it works?" Makoto asked with a slight tilt of his head. They were walking down the dirt path, feet kicking up small clouds of dust with their footsteps. "The spirit is giving magic to me?"

"Yes – the spirit wants to keep you alive just as much as we do." The other boy gave a laugh. "Watch your head. The branches are quite low through here."

The trees grew more closely together, forming a canopy over their heads as they walked. Makoto had to duck down slightly to keep leaves and twigs from snapping off into his hair. He tried not to imagine Haruka rolling his eyes and fingers in his hair, helping him to pick out the debris he couldn't see.

"How far do we have to go?" Makoto asked, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he tried not to worry about the purple tint to Haruka's fingers. "It's getting… quieter."

Birds had stopped chirping, and the wind was still. It was quiet and still, hot and a little bit sticky. Aiichirou didn't seem bothered. "A bit farther. Magic residue can do weird things to the environment, especially when it's negative energy."

The stale feeling of the air and the humidity was a weight on his chest. It made Makoto's skin crawl. It was certainly familiar, in an uncomfortable way.

They passed under a section of the canopy that was only branches. Brown leaves littered the ground, crunching underfoot. The farther they walked, the closer they were to wherever Aiichirou was leading them, the more plants had died and the more the earth seemed singed. Aiichirou slowed to a stop in front of a small clearing. It looked like the vegetation had been blasted away, and there was a spiraling pattern burned into the dirt. This, too, was familiar, though Makoto wasn't sure why. It didn't look like his tattoos or Haruka's, and he couldn't remember having seen it before. Even so, it felt familiar and uncomfortably close.

"Here…" Aiichirou's voice was a notch quieter, as though this place made him uncomfortable as well. "This is where the summoning took place. Can you tell anything?"

Makoto took in a deep, shaky breath. Even the air tasted foul, and he felt his hands trembling. The sense of magic in the air was overwhelming. He bit his tongue, wishing for Haruka's warm hand in his own.

"I think… I think it's the same," Makoto said finally, swallowing hard. "As the thing that was in the temple. During the Choosing."

Aiichirou stood with his arms crossed over his chest, mouth pulled down by a frown. "That's worrying… A shapeshifter with a grudge is a dangerous thing."

Makoto took a shuffling step back, easing away from the negative energy he could feel in waves. It emanated from the singed earth in waves; Makoto could practically see them, the way he could see heat waves in the distance during hot days back in Iwatobi. He ran his tongue over his lips to wet them and then shook his head. "Um… I don't know how much more help I can be. I can't really sense things yet…"

"Can you close your eyes again?" Aiichirou asked. "I'd like to try something, if you don't mind?"

"I – sure," Makoto clasped his hands behind his back and shut his eyes, trying not to pinch them. "What should I do?"

The other boy took a few steps. Makoto could hear it, the shuffling, as Aiichirou adjusted his position. "Take a deep breath. Can you expand your senses outward for me? Like spreading a blanket. Just push your awareness out of your body – tilt your head back if you have to. You should be able to get a pretty good range with all the magic you have…"

Makoto did as told, trying to visualize himself pushing magic out of his body and into the trees. It oozed between trunks and over leaves, and when it oozed over the burnt earth, it nearly made him shudder. He expected it to be circular, like an extra large circle of awareness, but it was really just a shapeless mass spread over the area. He strained to sense something like the flames from his friends' magics, but all he could sense was running water somewhere to their north. It was a large mass, maybe even a waterfall. Makoto almost hoped that was what it was; when Haruka was well again, maybe they could explore the area around the temple.

"Okay, so… If there's anything out of the ordinary, you should be able to tell. Even something that probably _should_ be there, like dying trees." Aiichirou shuffled again. "Just… keep breathing slowly and let it happen. Don't rush it. Take your time."

It was a little more soothing to listen to Aiichirou's gentle instructions than to try to focus on his surroundings. Makoto clasped his hands a little tighter, trying to stop them from shaking.

In the still air and the silence, he scanned for anything. There was a ring of dead trees around the spiral pattern, and there were waterlogged trees farther out, as they had been hit hardest by the tsunami. There was a lingering magic in the area, foul and dark, but nothing else.

He told Aiichirou as much. They turned back to the temple, Aiichirou coaching him slowly on how to reign magic back in as they walked. Makoto struggled; it felt like something was trying to pull the outer reaches of his magic away from him, and even as he pulled it back in, something sapped at it. When he finally managed to contain his magic, he felt drained, tired and a little sore. Like icy fingers on his throat or water closing over his head. The same way he had felt after fighting off the imposter in the depths of the temple. Makoto put that thought from his mind and made small talk for the remainder of their walk.

It left a bad taste in his mouth, but it was easier to forget when Aiichirou took him back to his friends and he could sit next to Haruka for the remainder of the evening. Haruka never stirred, but his eyes were moving under their lids. Perhaps he was dreaming; Makoto watched, cradling Haruka's good hand in both of his own.

Haruka's fingers never warmed. Makoto tried not to let that worry him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me, guys! See you next time! <3


	12. Float

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know those memes where it has an animal, and it says, "On the internet, nobody knows you're a dog"? That's how I felt writing this chapter. I have no idea what I'm doing hahahaha /keyboard smashing
> 
> ALSO ALSO ALSO. CHECK THIS OUT. WATER PRIEST ART. CHECK IT while I flop around in happiness. kantarou-chan . tumblr post/91802669926/i-decided-to-dump-all-the-pics-ive-done-in-the

When the world had closed in over his head, everything fading to black, Haruka knew it had to be partly because he was pushing himself too hard. With his magic gone, devoured whole by whatever it was that had attacked him and pushed out of his body to protect himself, to try to protect Makoto, it made his limbs weak and his head spin. It was uncomfortable, but Makoto was more important. Makoto was why he had pushed himself beyond natural limits. That was what a knight was supposed to do, wasn't it? That was what Miho had always told them, and the stories of famous knights and priests were always about some extraordinary feat one had performed to save the other.

Knights protected priests. That was their job, their primary function. Haruka felt a crippling sense of failure. He had failed to protect Makoto. He had even failed to protect himself, forced to rely on Rin and Rei and Nagisa to support him. When the darkness washed over him, like being crushed by the brunt of a strong wave and held under, it was only for a moment. Consciousness returned, but it was barely there. Not enough to move his body.

Haruka became hyperaware of searing pain. It radiated from his arm, and his fingers felt numb, as though they had fallen asleep. It was more than pain from an open wound. The gash on his arm could not have caused such an excruciating sensation.

Someone was carrying him. Haruka found that his mouth wouldn't move; he couldn't tell who it was, and he had no magic with which to sense. It was like floating, as though he was weightless, the same kind of weightlessness he found floating on his back in the water and staring up at the sky. Like an air mage magicking him wherever they were going. But that thought was ridiculous; air magic was not prevalent, and the spirits of the air were said to be fickle and capricious, ever-changing beings that paid little attention to mortals. Someone's shoulder jostled into his stomach. If he had had the strength to, Haruka would have coughed.

Even if he couldn't move or see or speak, Haruka could still hear. He was vaguely aware of what was going on around them as they were shuttled into the temple. He could hear the clamoring of voices and the patter of footsteps; he could even hear the creaking of ancient stone doors as the Elements moved to accept them into its depths.

There was an unfamiliar voice coaching them through the halls and an even less familiar smell in the air, something like incense, but much stronger than what they had at the Iwatobi shrine.

Most worrisome, Makoto's presence was fading. Perhaps fading was the wrong term; Makoto wasn't wasting away, but the distance between them was certainly increasing. Haruka clung to his priest's presence, trying to reach for it. His own magic was so weak, and there was nothing he could do except hope that Makoto was fine. If they had actually made it to the Temple of the Elements, he was certain they would take care of his priest. Even if they didn't, Rei knew enough about spellwork and Rin was certainly powerful enough to get whatever they wanted. Rei, at least, wouldn't let anything happen to Makoto. Haruka was not as certain about Rin.

Breathing was becoming more and more difficult. Haruka put serious effort into each breath, each rise and fall of his chest. The voices around him were becoming muffled; he could hear garbled sounds, the way voices sounded underwater. The pain was becoming too much. He could hardly concentrate on his surroundings when searing, burning pain crept up from his forearm to his shoulder. If it reached his head, Haruka wasn't sure he could stay conscious.

"Drink this," he heard, and the edge of a cool surface – a bowl, a cup; the wide rim suggested the former – was pressed to his mouth. "I know you can hear me."

Liquid, bittersweet on his tongue, slid down the back of his throat. Haruka could have obeyed the command no more than he could have sat up by himself. Pain was still spreading quickly, but at least the drink made him feel warmer.

"Just rest," the same voice said gently. "We'll take care of you and your priest."

Haruka had no idea who was speaking, but it felt right. They would take care of him. More importantly, they would take care of Makoto. When his consciousness began to pull away, this time Haruka did not fight it. It took only a moment longer to ease into silent unawareness.

* * *

He was aware that he was dreaming. That in itself was odd, but Haruka knew it had to be a dream. There was no other explanation.

It had to be a dream for a variety of reasons, reasons that occurred to him in no particular order. For one, there was a certain sense of weightlessness that had settled over his body, and for another, there was no pain. There was also no flicker of his friends' presences, even less of Makoto's. If he had been awake, Haruka was positive he would have been able to sense them, at least a little bit. Even without magic, he could still sense. His surroundings were odd as well. Magic could do strange and terrifying things, but this seemed beyond the scope of a simple spell. Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, there was no sound. His hearing had not been damaged by their tangle with an inland tsunami – at least, as far as he knew. The only logical conclusion was that he wasn't awake.

Haruka sat cross-legged in front of a great waterfall. It was outdoors, but the ground was made of tatami, and he sat atop a cushion that was a purple so deep that it almost looked black. Beyond the tatami was a forest, and the edges of the mats blended seamlessly with earth that was a rich, loamy brown.

There was no sound of rushing water. There was no sound at all except his own breathing. Haruka didn't particularly mind; he appreciated the chance to look at the water's movement and to admire the waterfall's structure. He did not need the sound to accompany it. He had always loved water, and this was only a chance to sit in peace.

He did wonder, though, what kind of dream this was. As far as he could see, there was no one else present, and there was nothing except him and the waterfall. There was no movement of any kind, and when Haruka looked closer, he realized that the waterfall itself was as still as the air.

Nothing moved. When Haruka willed his hand to lift, he could not move his arm. The waterfall was still; his body was frozen. Slowly Haruka became aware of something coiled around his body. At first it appeared to be smoke, an insidious green that coiled and uncoiled around his arms and legs. Then, as it solidified, it formed links, eventually taking the shape of a chain. He was not sitting, Haruka realized; he was bound in place.

In the unnatural silence, the approach of footsteps was like thunder in his ears. Branches and leaves crunched underfoot, and a figure emerged in his peripherals. Annoyed, Haruka realized he could not even move his head to look.

The figure moved languidly. Haruka stared hard at the waterfall, looking for some reflection. The stillness of the water made it much easier to see movement in it. The surface of the water was his mirror, allowing him to see the movement of another person in the tiny clearing. The water shimmered, and a shape took form, flickering back and forth. Deep-set eyes, perhaps as blue as his own but much colder, sharper, in a pale face. Hair swept back, tied off at the base of the neck. Ears that tapered off into delicate points. He remembered Makoto's description of the demon from the temple and tried to glance down at the smoky chains that bound him. Was it the same creature that was appearing before him now, in this dream world?

 _Not a dream_ , the words unfolded in his mind like they had always been there, merely waiting for the opportunity to reveal themselves. Haruka would have found it odd if everything else was not already strange.

A premonition, then? A glimpse of something that would come to pass? Hopefully not. Haruka did not relish the idea of being bound in place and forced to wait until a demon found the time or energy to either release him or attack him. There seemed to be no other options.

The other person finally entered his field of vision. The end of a long, blue ponytail swung between exposed shoulder blades. Perhaps exposed was not the right way to describe it; the man's shoulders ended in sharp points, almost like fins. Dark in color and lethal in apparent design, the spikes retreated back into bare shoulders, disappearing into pale skin. If the color had been any more ashen, Haruka would have thought the man sickly; this was not a natural pale. It might have been due to the deep green haze that followed in the man's footsteps; miasma oozed between the trees and over the surface of the reflecting pool, filling the air with the scent of damp decay.

The man turned finally. In profile, he was not bad looking; despite the icy eyes and the frown, his skin was smooth and unblemished. It was a very _human_ look. Haruka knew, without understanding why or how he knew, that the man before him was decidedly not.

Haruka willed his body to move. These were the most dangerous kinds of creatures, the ones that looked human but were not. A silver tongue and a wicked smile, sneaking past town barriers and then eating humans alive, devouring them whole, bones and all. He knew it.

He became aware of his heart racing, pulse pounding in his ears. The man seemed to know it, too; a smile split those lips, revealing teeth that were as sharp as Rin's. Haruka could not help making the comparison after Nagisa had suggested it. He saw Rin in that smile, and that worried him further.

"Come into the water, he says," the man spoke, and the voice was raspy, words halting. "Come in. What's the harm?"

Haruka wished he could speak. The words didn't make any sense, and he hated the wave of confusion that washed over him. More, he hated riddles. What did that even mean?

The man turned, standing with his back to the waterfall. Time almost appeared to jump; the water lurched forward, splashing into the pool and trees rustled, the wind blew – but only for a moment. It was over as quickly as it had started.

"The open seas hold a feast, don't you know? But then again, so do the skies." The man tilted his head back, running his tongue over his lower lip. It was a wonder that he didn't cut himself on those teeth. "Above, below. An attack from anywhere. It's possible."

Was he speaking in riddles, or merely talking about something about which Haruka had no knowledge? There was no time to dwell on the thought; the demon stalked forward, one hand extended. Magic flickered between his fingertips, sparks nearly black. Pain returned, a trickle at first and then with great force. Unfamiliar magic was seeping down his arm and pooling over his legs. Haruka gritted his teeth.

"You," the man crouched before him; a delicately curved claw traced Haruka's cheek, and searing pain followed, "are indeed lovely. I will savor this moment."

Their eyes met. Haruka understood at once why Makoto had been so afraid upon leaving the temple. Those eyes were cold and deep and ancient. Whatever this creature was, it could kill them both. For some reason, it had failed to kill Makoto. Had it even been trying?

The man stood abruptly. One of his arms was turning to mist the same color as the substance that had crept between every nook and cranny in their illusory environment.

He smiled again, leaning down to take one of Haruka's hands in the arm that had not yet faded away. The chains loosened, and their noise was deafening. "Remember this," he said, speaking against the back of Haruka's hand. Teeth scraped against his skin, creating shallow gashes in his flesh, and the creature's mouth was tinted with blood. "Remember it well. Above? Below? How can you protect yourself from something you cannot see? I am afraid you may not live long enough… to see the end of your priest."

Try as he might, no magic responded to Haruka's call. The creature drew back unharmed. Every fiber of his being protested. There had to be a way. What magic could he use if not his own?

 _Bond_ , the word appeared in his mind. _Your bond_.

The creature's expression twisted into a snarl. It was a wholly predatory look; Haruka felt his pulse continue to race. Unfortunately – well, perhaps fortunately for him – the other man seemed to have lost the ability to speak. He opened his mouth, and his lips were moving as though words were being formed. Haruka could hear nothing else.

 _You will find me._ Haruka wondered if it was the spirit's voice in his mind. It soothed and startled him at the same time. _If you look_.

Time skipped forward again, a few beats. The creature jerked into doubling over, wheezing breaths echoing in their silent clearing. The waterfall roared to life. A few beats more and the creature was gone, with nothing left in his place to mark his disappearance.

The water began to flow again. The chains faded from his skin. There was no explanation given, and though Haruka wanted one, there was nothing he could do.

He sat in companionable silence with the waterfall until his consciousness was disrupted.

* * *

It was irritating to be able to hear but unable to speak.

Haruka could even see when someone lifted his eyelids one at a time. An unfamiliar face peered down at him. A boy with short, silver hair and clear blue eyes was blinking down at him. There was a beauty mark under his right eye, and his lips were slightly pursed. Worry was etched into his forehead. Haruka wished he knew why. More, he wished someone would say something about Makoto.

"Pupils are reactive," the unfamiliar boy said. "That's a good sign. It means he's close to waking up, I think."

"You think?" Rei's voice was the next to follow. "What does that mean?"

"It isn't like we handle a lot of ancient creatures trying to poison us. I can't know for sure," the same unfamiliar voice said, a little cross. "But it looks like he's starting to wake up. He can hear us again, too."

There was shuffling, rustling, the creak of wood on wood. It sounded like someone had pushed themselves away from a table. "How can you tell he can hear us?" That voice sounded like Nagisa. A presence loomed over him. "Hey, Haru-chan! You in there?"

"Don't say that," Rei scolded. "It's not like he isn't responding because he doesn't _want_ to."

The unfamiliar one gave a slight laugh. "No, really. See how the poison is starting to drain out here? It should be finished later today, and then hopefully he'll wake up after that."

"Hopefully," Rei repeated. "You're not very reassuring."

"Haru-chan," Nagisa was saying, and Haruka felt his arm being shaken. "Wake up soon, okay? You're really giving Mako-chan a scare!"

 _There_. Someone had finally said Makoto's name. The relief that washed over him was practically numbing in its force. Where was Makoto? He couldn't sense any of his priest's magic except a lingering presence in his palm and a whisper against his lips.

A warm hand tucked into his own. Haruka would have started if he had had the ability. "Haru-chan?" Makoto's voice was hesitant and soft and close to his ear. "It's me. You look better. And – and I'm okay. So. We'll be okay, right?"

Nagisa and Rei were quiet. They probably didn't want to interrupt. One set of footsteps moved away, feet padding against the mats. "I'll be nearby if anything changes," the unfamiliar boy said. "Nanase-senpai will be fine. I'm sure of it."

Makoto's hand squeezed tighter. "I hope so," he said quietly. "It doesn't feel like any of Haru's magic has come back yet… That's weird, isn't it?"

The unfamiliar boy didn't reply. To Haruka's slight surprise, it was Rin's voice that answered. "Yeah. 'S pretty weird."

Haruka didn't need to see to know that Makoto was worried. He could feel Makoto's grip tighten and something – probably his priest's knee – press into his side. "What happens if his magic doesn't come back?" Makoto said quietly.

"Jeez, Makoto. You worry too much," Rin said breezily. "Even if it's all sealed up, 's not like it's gone _forever_ or something."

Makoto didn't respond. Haruka could feel the edges of his priest's magic lapping at his skin, reaching for him. As much as it had bothered him during their journey, it felt nice to know that at least one thing hadn't changed.

* * *

They were alone when he finally found the strength to open his eyes.

Makoto was laid out next to him, taking up as little space on the futon as possible but still not quite laying on the floor. His presence was like a roaring fire, warm and comforting, the same way their campfires had been in the woods. The steady rise and fall of his chest and the way his magic did not immediately rise to meet Haruka was telling enough. Makoto had fallen asleep at some point. He had probably exhausted himself with worrying.

Haruka pushed himself up onto one elbow first, grimacing at the way his muscles protested. Everything ached. Most of it was a familiar ache; Haruka had experienced this kind of pain once before, when he and Rin had completely exhausted their magic reserves in training. They had both laid across the tatami in Haruka's living area and complained of soreness for hours until Makoto had arrived to tend to them and laugh helplessly at them until they could move again.

He was not, however, familiar with the pain that wracked his left arm. His fingers were numb, and his elbow felt stiff and uncomfortably tight, as though the tendons might snap if he moved them too quickly. Haruka flexed the fingers on his good hand, pleased when they responded quickly and effectively.

A tendril of Makoto's magic, sleepy and sluggish, rose to slide across the back of his knuckles. Haruka stilled. He couldn't see any glimmer of magic in the air, which was unusual, but he could feel it. Warmth spread from his hand to his shoulder and then to his chest. The tendril wound a little tighter, pressing so hard against his skin that it felt like it was trying to sink into him. Haruka tried to open his senses and allow it to happen; he needed the magic, and Makoto had an abundance. It was logical to think that Makoto could give him magic to even the playing field for the both of them.

Unfortunately, opening his senses to accept foreign magic was much harder than Haruka had figured. He had never tried before, but priests and knights were often said to share a magical bond that existed for no one else. It should have been easy.

Instead, the only thing that was really happening was that the heat from Makoto's magic was going straight to his head. Haruka ran his tongue over his lips to wet them. His mouth was dry, but Makoto so close and expression so serene was almost _tempting_. Magic curled over his shoulders, pushing and tugging. Was Makoto's magic _trying_ to instigate physical contact between them?

Haruka found that he didn't so much mind; he leaned back down, lips brushing Makoto's forehead. Just that simple contact was enough to send sparks through his body, and the pain in his left arm subsided for a moment. When he drew back, the pain returned.  Haruka filed that away for later introspection.

Makoto was starting to stir, a quiet sigh pulled from his lips as he woke. Haruka reached for him, stroking one finger across the brunet's cheek. That touch as well filled his senses with light and comfort. Was this what was meant by a bond? He recalled the words appearing in his mind. Their bond had to have something to do with this, Haruka was sure.

His priest blinked sleepily at him, stifling a yawn. "Ha – Haru-chan?" As soon as he was able, or awake enough to register what was happening, Makoto scrambled to push himself up. "You're awake!"

"Don't call me –chan," Haruka said flatly, allowing his elbow to give out and laying himself back down. He did smile, despite himself, though just faintly. "I'm awake."

Makoto hovered over him, almost leaning in to hug him. He stopped short, perhaps reminded of the last time they had had skin contact.  Or, perhaps more likely, he was worried about stressing Haruka's injuries further. "I – I was worried, Haru." The words were quiet, almost demure. "Really worried."

Haruka hesitated for a moment before reaching out again. He brushed his knuckles against Makoto's cheek, comforted by the feeling of his priest's magic flowing between them. "I know." And then, a moment later, "I'm sorry."

The brunet's head snapped up. "Sorry? What for?" Makoto's voice nearly broke with how guilty he sounded; the other boy shook his head. "I'm the one who should be sorry. If I had… If you hadn't needed to…"

"Shut up," Haruka said, feeling uncharacteristically gruff. " _I'm_ the knight, remember?"

Makoto looked almost embarrassed. He pressed Haruka's hand to his cheek with both of his own, lips slightly parted like he had something to say but couldn't quite force out the words.

"Are you hurt?" he pressed when Makoto didn't say anything more. "What happened after the wave? We couldn't find you."

The brunet shook his head slowly. "I… I don't really remember. All I remember is waking up in the temple, and…" Makoto shook his head a little more vigorously. "We were really worried about you. All of us. Nagisa and Rei and – and Rin, they're all here, too."

"I know," Haruka said, staring up at the ceiling. "We were all looking for you."

Makoto's face appeared directly over his line of vision. The brunet was worrying his lower lip between his teeth. "Are you sure you're okay?" Makoto said finally. "Your arm is still…"

Haruka pushed himself back up to one elbow and then looked down at his left arm. There was a slight film over his skin, and when he squinted at it, he could just barely make out a pattern. It wasn't as dark as the purple that stained his fingertips, but it certainly looked like bruises – but after a few days of healing, when the skin was almost back to normal. His arm felt heavier, too, like a physical weight was pressing down against him, keeping him in place. _Like chains_.

He remembered chains coiled around his body in the dream and the sharp teeth of a stranger. Haruka set his mouth into a thin line and closed his eyes.

"Nitori-san – he's been in charge of your medicine and, um, taking care of you – said the antidote might make you feel… weird, I guess, while it works out of your system." Makoto continued. He reached for Haruka's hand again, fingertips brushing across Haruka's knuckles. "So… it might be normal if you don't feel right yet."

It was with some difficulty that Haruka shoved himself up. With only one good arm, it was much harder to keep his balance, and his shoulder protested at the additional weight. Haruka set one hand behind himself to keep his body upright and then sat up the rest of the way, trying not to let his expression betray how troubling it was to be without magic. When Makoto withdrew, when there was no contact between them, he couldn't sense his priest at all.

A gentle tendril of magic touched his cheek, and Haruka turned his head to follow it.

Makoto smiled hesitantly. Haruka couldn't help but wonder if he still had no idea of the effects his magic was causing. He also couldn't help the sudden spike of jealousy that someone else might react to an eager tendril of magic in the same way that he did. Now that he had none of his own, the effects were amplified, and it made him wonder – did other people experience the same? Or was it just him? "And… Nitori-san said that since your magic isn't recovering, we should take you to the spirit altar here and see if that helps at all. Do you think you're feeling okay enough to get up and walk around a little bit?"

"Of course," Haruka said shortly. It took a moment to pull his legs up. It took a few more jerky movements to push himself to his feet, and his legs nearly refused to obey his will. This was more than just lingering soreness from stolen magic. This was something else entirely. When the blankets fell away and he was standing on his own, Haruka became aware of just how _weak_ he felt. His legs were not trembling, thankfully, but there was a hollow feeling in his chest that wasn't going away. _Drained_ had never before so accurately described how he felt.

Makoto offered a hand to steady him. "Here. You still look kind of pale… Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

Sudden warmth spread from Makoto's hand to his; it crept up Haruka's arm and wound tight around his chest. " _Fine_ ," he stressed finally. "I'm fine."

"If you say so," his priest said, head canted slightly to the left. He wasn't sure if Makoto believed him, but no argument came. Instead, Makoto led him slowly to the door, careful to make sure he was there for support if needed. "C'mon! Let's go tell everyone that you're awake!"

As Makoto shuffled toward the door, Haruka saw, out of the corner of his eye, a chain dangling from their clasped hands. The links were slimy green, so dark that they were almost black. They swung back and forth, silently taunting him with their very presence. Fortunately they seemed unable to wind around Makoto's hand and ascend from there. Perhaps someone at this temple could explain to him what kind of magic this was.

Or, better, perhaps they would finally be able to contact the Water Spirit. Haruka allowed himself to be tugged along behind his priest, content to feel the warmth spreading between them and to let someone else navigate unfamiliar settings.

* * *

"So. Yeah. That's definitely a problem."

Aiichirou crossed his arms over his chest, expression puzzled. His mouth was drawn into a tight frown, lips slightly pursed. "I don't know – I've never seen anything like this before."

"Pretty weird. Wouldn't think this would be a Water problem, either," the redhead across the table said with a shrug. "'S hard to say if something else is going on."

Haruka sat between his priest and an unfamiliar boy with silver hair, the one he had caught a glimpse of while he had been recovering. Across the table was another unfamiliar face, a redhead who had introduced himself as Mikoshiba Seijuurou. Haruka had not been surprised to learn that he was not, in fact, only an acolyte of Water. He specialized in two elements, preferring not to say what the second was. Haruka assumed the first was Water, otherwise he would not have been present.  No one in Iwatobi was encouraged to practice any magic other than Water, given the fact that the Water Spirit and the Water Temple were within the city's borders. Outside of Iwatobi, however, magic was not as constrained. People practiced whichever element came most naturally to them. It did make him wonder, though, if Makoto would have shown an aptitude for another element if he had been given the chance.

They had spent some time earlier with Nagisa, Rei, and Rin, celebrating the fact that Haruka had finally woken. Their friends had been silent on the topic of Haruka's lost magic, preferring instead to focus on the fact that he was alive and relatively well. Aiichirou had found them some time after, introducing himself and expressing his surprise that Haruka was draped in chains that no one could see and still drained of all of his magic. Aiichirou had ushered them out, saying something about asking a temple leader about what was happening and casting worried looks over his shoulder as he led them through the temple.

That was how he and Makoto found themselves sitting at a strange table carved with symbols and runes with two strangers, discussing something Haruka felt was rather personal.

"It's really strange," Seijuurou said, brows pinched and mouth drawn. "I can't see them, but I can sense it. You don't think it's residual, like that spot you took your priest to?"

"But I can't sense anything… Not like before. Shouldn't I be able to if I'm the priest?" Makoto contributed.

Aiichirou shook his head. "You would if I had time to coach you through it. We don't have that kind of time today, though…" What was that supposed to mean? Had someone else been teaching Makoto while he had been recovering? Haruka couldn't help but feel a prickle of jealousy, though he could control his expression well enough not to show it. Makoto's mouth curled at the corner, and he cast a knowing look at Haruka. Sometimes it was annoying to be around someone who could read him so well. "We need to get this sorted as quickly as possible. If we're attacked again, and Nanase-senpai doesn't have any magic…"

"I won't be a liability," Haruka interrupted. "I can still fight."

"Yeah?" Seijuurou was the one to respond first. "You're gonna fight something that uses magic with what, your fists?" He scoffed. "Get your priest killed, that's what you'll end up doing."

Haruka narrowed his eyes. It reminded him of the creature he had seen, the words he had said. _Won't live long enough to see the end of your priest._ Was that what he had been referring to, the fact that Haruka was essentially defenseless against a magical assault?

Aiichirou held out a hand like a peace offering. "If we can figure out a way to do some kind of transfer…"

"Too risky," Seijuurou shook his head. "Might not work."

The other boy looked a bit annoyed at that. "I meant a transfer between _them_." Aiichirou gestured between Haruka and Makoto with both brows raised. "They're bonded. It might work for them when it wouldn't for someone else. Surely _you_ should know something about that."

Whatever that meant, Seijuurou leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest as well. "It might work," he relented. "I don't know. The rules of transfer are different for every element. You'd know as much about this as I would, so. Not really sure why you called me into this."

"I know," Aiichirou said quietly. "But you helped fight off the attack, and besides, you know the most about demons. Nanase-senpai, have you ever shared magic with Tachibana-senpai before?" Abruptly changing subjects, Aiichirou turned to look at them both with a slight smile. "If you've already set up a link, it might make this a little easier."

He and Makoto exchanged a glance. "I tried accepting some of Makoto's magic earlier. It didn't work," Haruka answered with a noncommittal shrug.

Aiichirou blinked once, twice. "Ah. Well… Your bond should make it much easier to accept magic from Tachibana-senpai than anyone else… Have you ever completed a magic transfer in the first place?"

Miho hadn't taught them much about transfers. She had said given them a quote about how sharing magic was like the ocean, which hadn't made sense, and then she had explained that transfers were not appropriate for most people and in most situations. If the technique was learned too early, she had said, it was possible to steal magic from others without conscious awareness. That made it something she preferred they learn once their magical control was unshakeable, and _that_ meant that every time they brought it up, she waved them off and told them that the lesson was soon but not today.

Some of the legends about priests and knights talked about the way that magic flowed between them like the tide, a give and take relationship. Others talked in riddles about how priests needed protection from themselves because of the capricious nature of the spirit with which they convened, but Haruka didn't know much about those stories. It was Makoto who did most of the research and who had done most of the reading. Without magical education to occupy his time, civilian school delved much deeper into the history of their spirit and their way of life.

"No," Makoto was the one to answer when Haruka realized that he had been silent for a beat too long. "I don't think we've ever tried."

"You should get 'em to the altar," Seijuurou said with slightly raised brows. "See if it helps the transfer. Shouldn't be wasting time when we've got no idea when the thing might show up again."

Aiichirou shook his head quickly. "One more thing. I did ask you here for a reason, you know. I wanted everyone's opinion on what kind of demon we might be dealing with."

"Right, yeah. Demon." Seijuurou offered a contemplative expression, ticking off his fingers one at a time. "Most likely a kelpie or a siren. I mean, you gotta keep an eye out for the Folk, 'cause who knows. It's probably not a kappa. They don't shift like this – and you can definitely check tanuki off the list. The only ones I've ever met are all tricksters, not really into the elements."

"Are you ruling out obake as well?" Makoto chimed in, head slightly canted. "It definitely didn't act like any spirit I've ever read about."

Seijuurou turned his eyes to Makoto, brows raised again. "Yeah? You meet a lot of spirits, priest?"

"Well, no," Makoto stumbled over the words, shaking his head. "I just… I've read some."

The redhead's mouth quirked up at the corner as he half smiled. "Yeah. Rule out obake. Might as well rule out dragons, too. Not even a hydra's gonna be interested enough in what we're doing with the spirits, unless it's hoarding them, and that's even less likely than it bein' Folk."

They were all silent for a moment, considering. A siren or a kelpie? Neither of those options sounded good. Haruka knew a little bit about sirens and a little bit more about kelpies, but he had never seen the demon in question in person. His dream wasn't conclusive; only Makoto, apparently, knew enough about the demon to identify it. If he hadn't been able to just by seeing it, then who knew what it could have been? Then again, Makoto was no expert on magical monsters. Perhaps Rei would know a little bit more. Haruka wondered why their other friends had not been involved in this meeting, but he kept that question to himself. They could have a meeting of their own once Aiichirou left.

Seijuurou pushed himself to his feet after their silence, shifting his weight from side to side to stretch. Standing, he looked taller than even Makoto, but Haruka wasn't sure if that might have just been the angle from which he was looking. "Well, good chat, guys. I have to get going – temple business and all."

Aiichirou was next, patting out his robes. "Right. We should get going as well. I'll take you two to the Water altar, and we'll see if maybe the spirit will join us." He smiled, softly, like he was sorry they had to do it in the first place, and headed to the door a few steps behind Seijuurou.

The redhead didn't wait for them, tossing a quick wave and an even quicker grin over his shoulder as he disappeared down the hall. Makoto was the last to get to his feet, trailing a step behind Haruka and then hesitantly taking Haruka's hand. The brunet twined their fingers hesitantly; Makoto's hand was a little clammy, like that entire conversation had made him nervous. Haruka glanced back at him, but Makoto only offered a smile. Magic crawled between them, slinking over his wrist but stopping short at his elbow. It was like submerging his arm in warm water; the magic was soft and warm, and it made his skin tingle pleasantly.

"I guess… Let's just go see if we can get this sorted out," Aiichirou said finally, starting down the hallway. "Just follow me."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate the end of this chapter. Ugh I am so over it. See ya next time!


	13. Breach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Chapter summary: I have no plans. I'm just writing until something happens. That's… how planning fics go, right? /sweats nervously. The end of this chapter was out of my hands. It just sort of happened. Ditto with the beginning.
> 
> 2\. Wheeeee, look at this! Chapter 13! I feel pretty impressive, guys.

When they stood before the Water Spirit's altar, Makoto was reminded once again of a marriage. In the same way that they had stood before the shrine in Iwatobi, hands joined and standing on ceremony, they stood before a great altar to the Water Spirit, standing shoulder to shoulder and staring up at the symbols carved into a great, stone table.

The structure itself was very light in color but not quite white. It was only tinted blue, and the stone appeared to shimmer in the sunlight that trickled in from high, broad windows. Runes carved into the legs and sides of the table were outlined in a darker color; Makoto could read some of the symbols, but the ones he couldn't must have told vital parts of the story. He couldn't tell if the runes were supposed to be a spell or a legend, but it was something important. He wasn't sure, exactly, why he knew – but he was positive. The altar was imbued with a deep power that resonated somewhere within the mottled stone. Any ceremony that took place here was bound to be amplified.

"The story goes that the Water Spirit carved this table itself," Aiichirou explained quietly, remaining a few paces back. He had declined to stand directly in front of the altar with them, citing an interfering magical presence as potentially harmful to their cause. "The temple master at the time found the altar washed up on the beach, and the runes were still forming. He brought it in to the Elements, thinking it was an omen from the spirits, but one day, he caught the spirit working on more carvings. There's an unfinished section near the back, if you can see it." He paused, and when Makoto looked back, the other boy's eyes were closed, and a smile was touching his mouth. "No one knows what the spirit granted him that day, but the altar has remained unfinished ever since."

Makoto wondered if it was inappropriate to touch the runes. He wanted to touch; something was urging him ahead in the same way that his magic was urging him to step closer to Haruka. He brushed his fingertips against the altar, withdrawing his hand after only a moment. It made his fingers smart with static shock, and when he rubbed them together, sparks jumped over his skin, leaping out and then disappearing back into his palms.

"It's still a very powerful structure," Aiichirou added. "It doesn't have as strong of a connection as the Water Temple, but it's the closest thing to the spirit in _this_ temple, at least."

Haruka was silent at his side. The other boy's blue eyes were focused on the altar, and his brows were slightly drawn. At some point of following Aiichirou down the temple halls, they had stopped holding hands. Makoto inched a step closer, trying to follow the line of Haruka's gaze.

When they stood together, hands close but not quite touching, Makoto could feel his magic spreading from where he stood to surround Haruka as well. It was like standing in thick fog – or what he imagined standing inside a cloud to feel like; there was slight pressure, but it was warm, perhaps more like steam without the feeling of condensation on the inside of his nose and mouth. Instead, the air was faintly musky; a pair of deep blue candles burned behind the altar, flanking it on either side. It smelled like the ocean breeze, the way Iwatobi did during long summer days. Thoughts of Iwatobi reminded him of his siblings and his parents; Makoto wondered how his family was doing and if they were doing all right. It had only been a week so far, and Miho _had_ said she had no idea how long this journey would take. He hoped they weren't worried.

"Overthinking," Haruka muttered next to him. "Stop it."

Color rose in his cheeks. "Sorry," Makoto murmured back, dropping his gaze. How could Haruka even tell? He had thought the control he had over his magic was getting better, not worse.

"I'm going to step outside," Aiichiriou spoke up after another moment of silence. "Just… try to summon the spirit with your thoughts. If it's around, it might respond. If not…" He trailed off into another pause. "Um, just come find me when you're ready."

Makoto listened to the sound of the other boy's footsteps fade from the room and then the quiet whisper of the door sliding shut behind him. When they were finally alone, he took in a deep breath, tasting salt and then scooted a step closer to Haruka. Their arms were almost touching. Usually a proximity to Haruka's skin made his own crawl with pleasant warmth, but this time, Haruka's injury made him want to shirk back. His magic didn't like it either; Makoto could feel it winding around his knight's ankle and then around his calf, but it didn't dare touch the other boy's left arm.

Haruka didn't seem bothered by the magic that was literally working its way up his leg. Makoto was embarrassed for him and tried to tug the magic back, but it was too stubborn.

"Here," his knight said softly, stepping around and behind Makoto to his other side. With Haruka on his left, right hand offered, there was no lingering presence of dark magic. "Let's try." He offered his uninjured hand with the palm facing upward. The tattoos under his skin were glowing, just faintly; in the dim light of the altar room, they cast an ethereal glow. "We just have to project our thoughts to the spirit, right?"

"R-right," Makoto agreed, stumbling over the word as he placed his hand delicately on top of Haruka's. The magic creeping along Haruka's legs was making _him_ a little dizzy, and with their hands joined, it made his cheeks flush as well. Was that normal? "So we just…?"

"Stop talking," Haruka said firmly. His closed his eyes slowly, and in the candles' flickering light, he looked serene and calm and completely at peace. Makoto wondered if that was really how he was feeling.

The altar itself did give off a vibe similar to that of the ocean; to Haruka, it must have been comforting, but Makoto was reminded of the way he felt around the open water – like there was something deep, deep down that could grab onto his feet and yank him down to the depths. The magic around it, on the other hand, _did_ comfort him. The presence of magic in the air reminded him of Haruka's warm hand in his own, and it was a little weird to experience such conflicting sensations. Makoto closed his eyes as well, trying to forget all of the bad feelings and focus solely on their goal.

How, exactly, did one go about summoning a spirit? Makoto gripped his knight's hand a little tighter, thinking hard. Would the spirit respond just by him _wanting_ it to appear? Or would he have to be more specific – did he need to imagine the spirit pouring in from the ceiling, a drop of water at first turned to a trickle and then a river? The only thing he could think of for comparison was the way the demon had bubbled up from the Water Temple's basin. Was that how the spirit actually moved around in the physical plane? Did it pull water from the air to form its physical body? Or was the Water Spirit always in a physical form, just lurking out of sight?

Haruka squeezed his hand gently. "You're doing it again," he said with a pointed look in Makoto's direction. "I told you to stop overthinking things, didn't I?"

Makoto took in another deep breath, tasting the salty air again. When he let it out, slowly, trying to hold it in his lungs for as long as he could, he pictured instead the Water Temple and held tightly to the nervousness he always felt around the open water. Was it the spirit that had always made him nervous? Perhaps he had always known about the spirit's great power, and, without understanding, he had begun to fear it. Was that fear what prevented him from communicating openly with the being that had chosen and marked him?

_Listen_. The voice's whisper was a tickle across his mind, and Makoto grappled with it. _You must listen_.

He tried to obey, opening his senses to the room. His magic wound around them both, and it felt something like it was peeling back, like it was sloughing off a top layer, like scrubbing skin hard enough that it was pink and raw and sensitive.

Haruka's presence beside him did comfort him, though. Makoto squared his shoulders, tilting his head back, just slightly, the way Aiichirou had instructed him when they had been looking for traces of a demonic presence. There was no demonic presence here; it was wholesome and warm and gentle.

But it was also vast and mysterious and unknown, and when his senses touched something that felt powerful and fathomless and as deep as the ocean, Makoto recoiled physically. He _could_ hear something, however; it was a hum, a quiet murmur, almost musical in tone and timbre. Makoto tried one more time to reach for it, flinching but this time not drawing back when his senses touched it.

"Makoto," Haruka said beside him, voice so quiet that it was hardly above a whisper. "Your hands."

Makoto opened his eyes. His hands were glowing, a faint blue that twisted and turned over his skin. "What… is this?" he breathed, taking his hand back from his knight to hold both in front of his body. Palm up, they both exuded the glow, and after a moment, it intensified. "Is it… working?"

_Listen_ , the voice urged. The words played behind his eyelids when he blinked. Makoto nearly started. _Focus_.

Everything he could remember Haruka saying about magical control, everything that Aiichirou had told him in passing, Makoto poured the experiences into his focus now; it took a great deal of concentration, but the glow expanded outward, encompassing the altar in its blanket of illumination.

His senses felt sharper. The salt was more pungent in the air now, and he could distinctly hear each exhale that passed Haruka's lips and the beating of the other boy's heart. It was a steady thrum, soothing and concrete. And then – _there_. Haruka shifted, and he _heard_ the chains move, the musical rattle as they moved against each other. As he listened, Makoto swore he could hear laughter somewhere in the distance.

In a sudden rush, several sounds bubbled up at once. There was laughter, yes, but there was also what sounded like screaming? A gust of wind, the flap of overlarge wings, and the crashing of an ocean wave. Grinding as stone moved, the way the doors to the Water Temple rumbled as they opened. Angry voices raised in an argument, the words too jumbled to make out as one person yelled above another. The sounds mixed together, and Makoto understood, without knowing exactly how, that they needed to return to Iwatobi.

_Good_ , the spirit's voice was relieved. _Very good_. _You must not hesitate._

Makoto got the sense that the spirit was not referring to their trip to return to their hometown, but the spirit did not clarify. He wondered if the spirit was impressing these thoughts upon him – if it really was the spirit that was guiding them in these suggestions. Was it the spirit that was pushing into his thoughts that they needed to return to their hometown? There was no time to dwell on the questions; a large presence filled the room, and Haruka took a step back next to him, breath caught in his throat.

His eyes snapped open. Above the altar, a ghostly figure floated, arms spread wide. "Do not hesitate," the figure said, its voice filling the room without any indication of a mouth moving. "Discord is your enemy in this moment."

Did that refer to Rin's dissatisfaction with his new role? Makoto had no time to dwell on it before the spirit spoke again. He had no idea if it was the Water Spirit or not; for all he knew, it could have been a lingering ghost that wanted to play a trick on them.

_Not_ , the voice scolded. _It is not. Do as I say._

The figure shook the blue glow from its arms, feet touching the altar one at a time. Even with wet hair, Makoto recognized her. A young woman with glimmering green eyes and a gentle smile. He knew the face of their previous priest who had been taken from them too soon, nothing but a whisper on the wind and the crashing waves to accompany her passing. There were few pictures made in their town, but documentation of all previous priests and their defenders were made. One such detail hung in the civilian school; it was stone tablet, carved and colored with a mage's touch and colors so potent that it appeared to pop out of the wall. Makoto remembered staring at it as a child, lamenting his lack of magical talent. When Nagisa had joined him in their civilian studies, they had sat beneath her picture to eat their lunches for years, laughing and joking. Makoto had always gotten the sense that she was listening to them, but there was no hint of a spiritual presence in their school. No one else had believed him. Now he wondered if it had been some kind of familiar bond between priests, serving only to grow stronger as he aged.

"The deepest part of the ocean," she said, voice echoing even though she spoke softly, "is also the most treacherous. What many don't know is that the open plains are just as dangerous."

Haruka took a slight step forward, easing one foot ahead of Makoto. The protective gesture was comforting, even if Haruka had no magic with which he could protect. Their former priest smiled. She could probably sense their nerves. He remembered his grandmother telling stories about how spirits could sense intentions, good or bad, and that they were much more attuned to human emotions than anyone gave credit. Makoto wondered briefly if it was true before the woman spoke again.

She took one more step forward, toes nearly hanging off the edge of the altar. "Your enemy seeks not only to drag you to the depths – you must take care to guard yourself against petty tricks. Simple spells can be anyone's undoing." The priest took in a slow breath, eyes closed and expression content. "I am sorry to say that I know nothing of our shared enemy."

He tried not to let the confusion play over his face. Were they talking to the ghost of their dead priest or to the Water Spirit? Makoto found he hadn't the voice to ask; his question died in his throat as the ethereal figure fixed him with a stare. It felt like she could see right through him, even though it was the opposite that was actually true. Her form was as transparent as the colored glass that lined the walls, just below the ceiling. The light filtered through the windows the same way it did her otherworldly body.

"The spirit tells me that you are lost," she continued. "You will find guidance in the beginning."

Makoto felt more than saw Haruka tense beside him. He tried to hide a smile. His best friend had never liked riddles. "The beginning?" he repeated, finally finding his voice. "Do you mean…?"

She made a great sweeping motion with her arms. The water that hung from her limbs like ribbons danced in the light. "Our home is in danger," she said simply by means of answering. "And so are you both. The spirit is locked away. It is your duty to release it."

"But… how?" Makoto struggled with the words. "How do we do that?"

Their former priest bowed. Her hair hung in wet curls, shielding her face. "The answer is simpler than you think. In order to find the spirit, you must first find your bond."

Makoto's head swum. What did that even _mean_? His bond with the spirit? His bond with Haruka? His bond with the people to which he was supposed to act as messenger? Before he could ask, the ghostly figure began to fade. She had been translucent before, but now her defined edges began to whittle away like smoke. Tiny rivulets rose toward the ceiling and disappeared.

"When the time is right, all will be revealed." She smiled, gentler this time and a little bit sad. "Once you have found your bond, you will have the ability to unlock our spirit. Until then, please… be careful." She cupped her hands together, and they filled with the same warm, blue light that had surrounded Makoto's. "The spirit would speak to you if it could. Unfortunately, it is in a place where only the dead can reach."

Did demons interact with the dead? Maybe they shouldn't have ruled out demon spirits after all; Makoto bit down hard on his lower lip. "Then how do _we_ reach there?"

Their former priest bowed lower. "That… The world of spirits is easier to find than you may think. If you work together, the doors will open. Please. You will find guidance in the beginning," she repeated.

Haruka, who had been silent for their entire exchange, took another step forward. His face was slightly upturned, and the light made his eyes practically shimmer. Blue reflected blue; it made Makoto think of the way the ocean looked converging with the horizon, the way the water shone and danced. "Thank you."

The woman straightened up, her astral arms falling back to her sides. "If only I could do more," she said sincerely. "Good luck."

When she was gone a moment later, Haruka reached back to take his hand. Makoto twined their fingers as the glow faded from both his hands and from the altar. A moment later, there was nothing left but a faint whisper in the air, a quiet murmur as voices ran together. This time, when he tried to listen harder, the sound merely continued to fade. He would admit that he much preferred this white noise to bodiless shouts and screams.

"I guess… we should go find Nitori-san," he said finally when the room fell silent. "I didn't think we'd be going back home so quickly."

Haruka's expression was troubled. His brows were slightly drawn, and the corners of his mouth were pulled down. "We won't be in Iwatobi for long," he replied, and Makoto didn't want to point out that his knight wasn't supposed to speak in riddles himself if he didn't like them. Haruka didn't offer any explanation for his rather cryptic words, but he did squeeze Makoto's hand gently. That was an explanation enough for now, Makoto supposed.

They headed for the door together. Makoto looked back over his shoulder one last time before they left, slowing for a moment. It was only for an instant, but he swore he saw a shadow move. _Where only the dead can reach_. If that wasn't a bad omen, he wasn't sure what was.

* * *

Makoto struggled through an explanation when they returned to Aiichirou and then later to their friends. Haruka wasn't talking anymore, and Makoto didn't know all the words that went along with describing astral beings or even how to make sense of the encounter itself. The bottom line was easy to get across – they had been visited by their previous priest, she had given them some kind of hint that they needed to puzzle out, and they needed to return to Iwatobi. The details were not nearly as communicable. The world of the dead? Finding their bond? There were details that Makoto wasn't sure _should_ be shared, let alone figuring out the words to do so. He stumbled through descriptions, but at least his friends didn't seem to mind that he wasn't sure what to say.

When the story was done, Aiichirou excused himself shortly after, citing temple business that needed his attention. Makoto wasn't sure if he believed that; the other acolyte had been trudging back and forth in the hallway when they had exited the altar room. When they had greeted him, he had been so focused on pacing that he had jumped. If there really was some other business to attend to, wouldn't he have left earlier? The other boy's expression was troubled, but he didn't say anything else as he ducked out the door.

That left Haruka and their three friends; for a while after Aiichirou had left, there was a comfortable silence. Even Nagisa seemed unwilling to speak up, though he certainly had had no qualms about interrupting Makoto's story earlier.

Finally, it was Rin who spoke. "So. Back to Iwatobi, huh?" It was hardly a question; the redhead had his arms crossed over his chest, and his mouth was drawn. "Seems kind of pointless that you had to come all the way here just to turn around again."

"If it's what the spirit wants…" Makoto said with a slight shrug. What choice did they have? Without the spirit, they lacked a necessary guidance.

Rin graced him with a withering look. "Like you really know what the spirit wants."

That stung a little bit. Makoto shut his mouth, hoping the clack of his teeth wasn't as loud to the others in the room as it sounded in his own ears. He looked down, twisting his hands together.

Rei jumped in next. "If she said you'll find guidance in the beginning, she could be talking about the shrine, not the temple," he said, changing the subject. "You said she told you something about a bond, right?"

Makoto nodded haltingly. He hadn't been able to lie to his friends, even by omission; he had mentioned everything, even if the details had been left vague. "Something," he agreed.

"You two were bonded at the shrine, so it's possible that there's something else you can open there." Rei sat back, eyes drifting upward as he thought. "I'm not sure. I'd have to do some research."

"Ama-chan can probably tell you something about it!" Nagisa chimed in, leaning forward to contrast the taller boy next to him. "What if she knew the priest lady?"

"You really think she's that old?" Rin scoffed.

"Who knows?" the blond shook his head with a slight laugh. "Doesn't hurt to ask, does it?"

Rin had no comeback to that; he fell abruptly silent and looked away. Makoto had thought his mood had evened out over the few days they had spent at the temple, but perhaps that wasn't the case. If anything, Rin seemed moodier than ever. He couldn't think of anything that would make Rin feel better without making him feel worse first, so he said nothing.

It was also much more awkward with Haruka awake but sitting in stony silence than Makoto had anticipated. He looked to his knight, half hoping for some kind of well-spoken comment, but Haruka still said nothing.

"Amakata-sensei spoke about it once, in passing," Rei said after a considerable pause. "Spirits can't talk about how to find the realm of the dead because they never see the mortal entrance. That's probably why she couldn't tell you how to find the Water Spirit."

"There's… there's a mortal entrance? A _human_ entrance? To a world of spirits?" Makoto parroted the words, trying to pretend the very idea didn't make him feel faint and that there had been no wash of cold nerves over his skin. " _Why_?"

Rei looked mildly uncomfortable for a moment. "That's… well, I don't really know why."

"Okaa-san used to say that the spirit world's guarded to keep loved ones from following after the dead," Nagisa piped up, leaning back on his hands and tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. "But I dunno! That's probably just a story!"

Makoto shivered, trying to imagine great stone doors like those of the Water Temple, or maybe doors that were three times as tall as he was and guarded by giant creatures with fierce expressions and enormous weapons. Who would even want to visit the land of the dead? They did, apparently. Makoto nearly scowled at himself. Stupid question. A better question was how the Water Spirit had gotten into the land of the dead in the first place. Sure, it was a spirit, but weren't spirits supposed to be able to come and go as they pleased? What was keeping the spirit trapped there?

"Just because the door's guarded against mortals doesn't mean it is against other creatures." Makoto was almost startled to hear Rin speak again; the redhead was frowning at Haruka. "But you already know that, don't you."

Haruka didn't respond. Abruptly, the other boy got to his feet and headed for the door. He slid the door open with force; it clattered against the wall. Haruka stepped beyond it without a second look back and set off down the hallway.

"H-Haru! Wait!" Makoto found his senses a moment later, scrambling to his feet to follow after his knight. "Where are you going?"

He must have been walking quickly; Haruka was already a good distance down the hall. His footsteps were noiseless, even with bare feet against the wooden floor, and there was a faint glow emanating from his left hand. There were tendrils of what looked like smoke left in his wake, lingering in the air for a few moments before fading into nothing. Makoto swore that shadows were crawling along the wall and licking at Haruka's heels, but it was much more likely that it was his overactive imagination and the worry gnawing at his stomach.

"Tch." Rin got to his feet next, stalking toward the door and shadowing Haruka's footsteps. He stopped at the threshold, and his mouth drew into an even tighter frown. "Aren't you going to follow?"

This time, Makoto wasn't sure. For a moment, he said nothing, just staring down the dim hall and wondering if Rin could see the smoky haze in the air. "No," he said finally, quietly. "Haru will come back when he's ready."

It was worrying that he could feel no glimmer of Haruka's presence, even though he could still see his knight before he disappeared around a corner. Even more worrying was that he _could_ sense the chains – or, more accurately, he could still _hear_ them. They jingled with Haruka's every step; the musical noise felt like an inappropriate reminder of what bound the other boy's magic. When Makoto blinked, the lingering haze seemed to disappear altogether, but he still did not make to follow.

He had always been there for Haruka, a steadfast presence in all those years of training, but there was nothing he could do now. If they couldn't break the chains before a return trip to Iwatobi, it was on his shoulders, and on _Rin's_ , to make sure that their group was cared for and safe. If they were attacked again on the road, Makoto did not want to be the one they looked for after the monster had passed. A priest wasn't _weak_. If the Water Spirit hadn't made a mistake, there had to be something Makoto had that everyone else did not. After all, how could they be expected to bond if Makoto didn't know his own power first?

It was with that in mind that he returned to the table, tucking his legs underneath himself and continuing a discussion with Rei and Nagisa.

* * *

"If we're only going to be here another day or two, we should explore!" Nagisa said pointedly, poking his head out into the hall.

Rin had left some time earlier, presence extinguished almost as soon as he had crossed the threshold. The control he had over his magic was incredible; Makoto almost wished he was brave enough to ask Rin to teach him a thing or two. As it was, he was still worried about making Rin feel worse. Asking Rin to help him train to protect Haruka – something that Rin had probably assumed would be _his_ job – seemed little more than tactless.

"I… I don't know," Makoto hesitated. Haruka had yet to return. He wondered if Rin had gone to look for him and felt the stirrings of discomfort somewhere along his middle. "What do you want to find?"

Nagisa tossed a quick smile over his shoulder. "Dunno! C'mon, when are we ever going to be in this temple again? Aren't you curious?"

Rei, seated at the table and holding a cup of tea with both hands, shook his head. "It isn't a good idea. There are too many things we don't know about this temple."

"Exactly," Nagisa cut across him with another bright smile. Rei immediately looked to the side to avoid it. "Which is why we should explore. How else are we supposed to _learn_ , Rei-chan?"

Makoto ran his tongue over his lips to wet them, pressing them together. "I'd like to see the other elements... We don't even have a shrine to anything else at home. Do you think they look the same as ours?"

"That's the spirit, Mako-chan!" Nagisa cheered. "Let's go! If Rei-chan's too chicken to come with us, he can stay here."

"I'm not!" Rei squawked, shuffling at the table. "I just think –"

"Let's go!" the blond said, linking arms with Makoto and pulling him out the door. "'Bye, Rei-chan! Hope you're not bored without us!"

Makoto allowed himself to be pulled into the hallway and then trailed a few steps behind Nagisa as the blond set off in the opposite direction that Haruka had gone. "You don't have any idea where you're going, do you?" he asked faintly.

"Nope!" Nagisa smiled again. "This way feels right! Besides, you're really down, Mako-chan. It'll do you some good to have a break from all the serious stuff, won't it? Plus – d'you know how long it's been since we had lunch together?" The blond stuck out his lower lip in a dramatic pout. "Too busy to hang out with your normal friend?"

"No, of course not!" Makoto protested. Then, as an afterthought, he added, "You haven't explored the temple yet? I'm a little surprised."

They continued down the hall; the walls were growing wider and wider apart, and colored lanterns hung in a string from the ceiling. There were no shadows in this part of the temple, and there were no other acolytes, either, which he found a little odd. Perhaps they were exploring at a time that the acolytes usually had lessons or prayers or something. After all, the Elements was still a place of teaching and of worship. There were probably many temple activities about which they knew very little. Makoto wasn't even sure how magical training worked; he had never been inside the magical academy in Iwatobi. At the end of the hall, the path split off to the left or right. Nagisa chose left without a second glance.

"We kind of had more important things to worry about," Nagisa said pointedly. He freed his arm from Makoto's, tipping his head to the side.

Makoto dropped his eyes to the floor. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "If… If I had been stronger…"

"If you'd been stronger, the giant fish thing would've eaten you instead," Nagisa interrupted. "Or it'd eaten both of you. Just be quiet for a minute! Can you hear that?"

He stopped to strain his ears. There was nothing except the chime of what sounded like wooden blocks falling against each other. Then there was the tinny ring of a gong. It wasn't quite enough to keep his thoughts from drifting back to what might have happened if he had been able to use magic to defend himself and Haruka from the tsunami. "What's that?"

"I don't know! It sounds way cooler than sitting around and talking about demons, though." In his own way, Makoto knew Nagisa was trying to cheer him up. He pasted on a smile and tried for a nod. "We can talk about demons when Haru-chan gets back. Let's just have some fun right now, 'kay?"

"Right… You're right," Makoto sighed. "Where do you think this path goes?"

Nagisa took in a deep breath and turned, walking backwards. "Who knows? It just feels like we should go this way."

They continued down the halls. There were a few doors littering the path, several of which were painted with broad, red lines. Makoto wondered if they had ventured into the territory of the fire acolytes and tried expanding his senses to check. There was one familiar presence, and he wanted to identify it as the boy they had spoken with before, Seijuurou, but he couldn't be precise enough to be sure. Nagisa peeked inside a room that had been left open. It looked not unlike the classrooms in their civilian school. The blond declared it to be too boring to search, so they continued.

Next they found a large room with a high ceiling. The wooden beams that supported the structure were crisscrossed with white seals that fluttered in a nonexistent wind. This room, Nagisa informed him, was worth exploring. They spent some time moving through, rustling through scrolls and books that were bound with twine. Nagisa found a stack of cushions, and when they were along the far wall, they found another door built into stone. Beyond that door was a room that emanated such power that even Nagisa didn't want to enter it, so they moved on from there as well.

There were several more classrooms that they discovered, and a few acolytes wandering the halls that stopped them to talk. Makoto couldn't help the nagging worry that he did need to go find Haruka and talk to him about what was going on, but Nagisa was right. This _was_ much more fun than sitting around and talking about demons. They were exploring a great and ancient structure without worrying about being attacked or ambushed or assaulted. Everyone they passed seemed friendly and open, and the acolytes who recognized his status were quick to bow and to compliment his immense presence. One girl even asked if Nagisa was his knight, and the blond had gotten a kick out of that.

It reminded him of the way he and Nagisa spent time together when they were at school or waiting for their other friends to finish at the academy, and the normalcy of it provided Makoto with more comfort than he had realized he needed.

* * *

When they had finally tired of exploring, which was after Nagisa had tried to touch a seal in what someone had told them was an alcove for the Air Spirits and nearly burnt the tips of his fingers, they tried to retrace their footsteps back to where they had left Rei.

"Can you sense him at all?" Nagisa asked, hands clasped behind his back and head canted. There was an extra spring in his step, and Makoto felt his own mood had lightened considerably. "Poor Rei-chan! He's probably so lonely!"

Makoto gave a slight laugh. "I think… This way. Does this seem familiar to you?"

The hallways of the temple were different but in ways that were so subtle many of these differences were lost on both Nagisa and himself. They had found themselves in a hall with a series of doorways that were all open; each room revealed shelf upon shelf of ancient texts. Farther down, several rooms appeared to contain magical ingredients.

"Are those eyeballs?" Nagisa crowed, holding both of his eyelids open to reveal more of the whites of his eyes. "Creepy!"

Not familiar, then. Makoto sighed, though his mouth was turned upward into a smile. "Let's try going this way?"

"Sure, sure," the blond agreed. "I can't tell."

When they passed all the doors to the library and storage rooms – if that was what they were – there seemed to be several acolytes in states of disarray. It was a larger hall that opened into a great room lined with tables. Makoto did recognize one person; it was the girl who had led him to his friends in the first place, Shima Tae. Her blonde plait was half undone, and a smear of dirt decorated her cheek.

"Priest-san!" she called, running to them. One of her slippers was missing. "Oh, thank goodness. Nitori-kun has been looking everywhere for you!"

At the far ends of the room, two of the mages clapped their hands together. Magic spread between them like a shimmering blanket, crawling along the edges of the wall. It lapped at the ceiling, meeting in the middle of the room over their heads. A solid dome manifested, and when Makoto tried to reach out to sense it, the magic sparked back at him angrily, forcing his presence back down.

"Shima-san?" he smiled, hesitant in greeting. "Is something wrong?"

Nagisa's eyes had gone wide and worried. Makoto had no idea how much the blond could sense; he had finished a few years of basic academy training, but they had never really talked about what Nagisa could really _do_ with his magic. "Something's definitely wrong."

Tae waved her hands frantically. "Please! You must follow me to the inner temple. The outer barrier has been breached."

Makoto wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but it certainly sounded bad. He looked to Nagisa, who was chewing on his bottom lip. "What about our friends? And my knight?" He looked back to the girl, worried as well. "Is someone going to get them, too?"

"We're looking for them right now, I promise!" Tae said in a hurry. "Please! Follow me! We have to get you all to safety!"

She didn't wait to see if they were, just turned on heel and started jogging down an attached corridor. Makoto hesitated for only a moment before he started after her, and Nagisa wasn't far behind. When they were beyond the reach of the dome of magic in the other room, he expanded his senses again. This time, no other presences sparked at him, and he searched as quickly as he could for Rin and Rei and Haruka.

Rei's presence was the closest, just a short distance away and closing in rapidly. Rin was far, somewhere beyond the temple walls but not beyond the lingering presence of the barrier. Haruka's presence was nowhere to be found, and even when Makoto strained to try to find any hint of the malicious intent coiled around his knight's left arm, he found nothing.

But there was another presence that he recognized, one that was larger and darker more ominous than anyone else he had met. Makoto felt his breath catch and his heart stop. Even worse was the fact that the presence was moving toward Rin – and _fast_.

"It's here," he said hoarsely, stopping in his tracks.

Nagisa moved to pass him and then stopped short as well. " _What_?"

Tae slowed ahead of them when she realized they weren't following. "Please hurry!" she urged. "We aren't far now! We need to guarantee your safety!"

Makoto turned, moving on impulse. With his eyes closed and his presence expanded, he could sense the quickest path outside. "The – the thing's here, we have to – we've got to!" He couldn't explain, couldn't find the words, not concentrating the way he was on keeping his magic spread out.

Rei's presence appeared at the end of the hall. It flickered and burned, magic hot and bright behind his closed lids. "Nagisa-kun! Makoto-senpai! Something's happening outside! Are you okay?"

"Fine," Nagisa assured him. "We're fine. Mako-chan is –"

"This way!" Makoto took off with his eyes still closed, marveling at how he could rely on this new sense to guide him. "It's going after Rin!"

He could hear Tae shouting but couldn't make out the words. It didn't matter; if the demon was going after Rin, and if Rin had gone after Haruka, there were two people who needed protection. Makoto wasn't sure how much good he would be able to do, but it was better than allowing them to be overwhelmed by the demon who was targeting _him_ , not his friends.

"Wait! Mako-chan, wait!" Nagisa and Rei were behind him, following as quickly as they could. "Slow down!"

Makoto found himself outside in the next moment, the forest air sharp and gritty against his skin. He could feel the dark magic, the malice, the curling pressure of heavy weight over his arms and legs. He persisted until a tendril of Rei's magic yanked him back.

"Makoto-senpai! Don't be an idiot!" Rei pushed his glasses farther up his nose, panting. "Don't rush in without thinking!"

"It's going after Rin and Haru!" Makoto protested, trying to yank himself away. "I have to! We have to protect them!"

Nagisa was doubled over, hands on his knees and breathing just as hard. "Just – just –"

"We'll protect them together!" Rei insisted. "You're not alone in this, Makoto-senpai!"

The words warmed his chest and brought back a little bit of rational sense. Makoto straightened, allowing his arm to fall back down to his side. "You're… you're right," he shook his head. "I'm sorry; I wasn't… thinking straight…"

"You're not the only one who's worried, jeez!" Nagisa said between breaths. "Just –"

Before the blond could finish, the earth shook, ground trembling with the force of an earthquake. A crack appeared between them and the far trees, chunks of the ground rising and a great rumbling filling the air. Makoto could see smoke rising from beyond the treetops, and there was crackling as tree trunks were wrenched and torn apart. Dust filled the air, and Makoto tried to cover his mouth to keep from breathing any of it in, but his eyes were already watering. Nagisa fell into a fit of coughing, but Rei was tense and alert. A bubble of his magic formed around them, trickling up from the ground to protect them from the cloud.

A pair of glowing eyes formed in the dust. A figure took shape, tossing back hair that fluttered in the wind that was suddenly whipping around them. The debris, leaves and dirt and rocks and dust, wound around them like they were within their own personal storm. The figure, merely a shadow in the dusty air, moved closer.

Makoto could make out nothing except a hand against Rei's bubble, sparks flying back and forth. Rei gritted his teeth, holding both hands in front of his body to more easily channel the magic. His barrier glittered in the light, and larger rocks struck it, suspended in the magic and then dropping harmlessly to the ground.

Makoto felt his blood run cold. Dark tendrils of black magic crept over the edges of Rei's barrier, and in the shadowed face, those eyes flashed, dangerous and promising.

"Get away from the edge, Makoto-senpai!" Rei called, practically shouting to be heard over the noise of the wind. "Please!"

He struggled to take a step back, crying out in alarm when shadowy hands wound around his ankles. How had they gotten through the barrier? With even more alarm, Makoto realized it was his own shadow that was binding him in place. There was a loud crack, the barrier began to split. Rei yelled something that sounded like an incantation, and there was a flash of bright light and then –

Makoto felt fingers close around his throat. A familiar face peered back at him from the haze, a wicked grin revealing sharp teeth.

" _Found you_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry-not-sorry! See ya next time!


	14. Drink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Notes: GUYS THERE ARE SO MANY FREAKING CHARACTERS IN THIS CHAPTER, AHHHH.
> 
> 2\. Demon uses a glaive. Edit: Welcome to the cast, demon! /throws confetti. Also, will be fixing the bit about the glaive later - when I'm not marathoning Criminal Minds and nursing an enormous headache.
> 
> 3\. I wrote this whole chapter in one sitting. Weird? I hope it makes sense. Top-down processing means it all makes sense to me. Oh… well…
> 
> 4\. Heads up for some serious Makoto-Rin interaction next chapter. It is long overdue. This chapter had to happen first! Makoto and Rin need to resolve their issues after this.

While they had been standing in front of the altar, hands clasped and watching the remnants of their previous priest fade away, Haruka had heard the voice. It was different from the gentle brush of words across his mind that he had identified as the spirit. This voice was a soft purr, dangerous but smooth as silk.

 _Come into the water_ , it said. That was all it said, but that was enough.

He knew it wasn't the Water Spirit calling to him. Haruka had felt the water pulling at him before; he had felt the ocean drawing him in with its immense presence and the soothing sound of waves breaking upon the shore. He knew what it was like to _need_ water, to require it, to be eased and soothed by it. Liquid droplets drying on his skin, wet hair sticking to his cheeks and forehead. Sinking low in the bath or floating on his back in the academy's training pool. Water calmed his senses and his spirit, and Haruka had felt a wash of that same comfort when Makoto's magic was crawling along his skin.

Without magic of his own, he felt like a desert, baking in the sun, skin dry and cracked, grit and dirt and sand. Makoto was like an oasis; with all of that magic, springing up in an endless supply, Haruka felt as though he could just drink it in or perhaps soak in it. He could sink into Makoto's presence just like he could the water.

If they could figure out a way to share magic, Haruka was positive they would be able to achieve a bond. The only problem was that he knew very little about sharing magic instead of _stealing_ magic. He could rip magic away from the environment or from someone else if he absolutely found it necessary. When he had tried to accept Makoto's magic the day before, that hadn't worked. But _why_?

They were certainly closer than anyone else Haruka had ever known. Why couldn't he accept Makoto's magic? Was there some sort of process behind it? Something his parents would "tell him when he was older," the same way Miho had kept putting off their lesson?

 _Come into the water_ , it said again. Haruka had tried to ignore it.

As they sat among friends, Makoto had recounted what had happened between them and their previous priest. Haruka had only half listened. He could hear the voice again, a constant murmur in the back of his mind.

 _Come into the water. Come into the water_.

The harder he tried to ignore it, the louder the voice became. The words were like honey, sweet and thick and oozing through his head. He couldn't focus at all, not even when Makoto looked to him expectantly, like he was hoping Haruka would contribute to the conversation. Haruka hadn't even heard what had been said.

 _Come into the water_. _The water. Come into the water. Water_. _The water_. _Come in. Come in_.

When he couldn't ignore it any longer, Haruka got to his feet without a word and headed for the door. He let his feet carry him wherever they pleased, paying little attention to his surroundings until he found the temple doors. Haruka stepped outside, relishing the stillness of the air and the quiet chirp of birdsong. The voices of his friends hadn't been able to block out the insistent words in his head and neither was the sound of birds, but at least out here, Haruka could hold his head and try to block it all out without anyone asking questions.

He kept walking. There was something in the forest that was drawing him in, drawing him closer. It wasn't a good something; if anything, it felt like his left arm, the one on which he could feel chains weighing him down, was what was leading him forward. He imagined a chain pulled taut, something tugging on the other end. Whatever it was, Haruka allowed himself to be led. There was no point in resisting, and the words brushing across his mind weren't going away. If he allowed himself to be led, however, it was possible he would be able to figure out where the words were coming from and how to stop it from continuing.

So he continued until the forest surroundings started to change. Instead of healthy trees and green shrubbery, the path was littered with plants that looked diseased and a few that were already starting to decay. The entire atmosphere felt unwholesome and dirty, and there was a foul smell in the air and a lingering taste in his mouth. When he kept walking, the path turned from foot worn to scorched, as though there had been a forest fire instead of an inland tsunami. Haruka traced his fingers over one of the burnt trees and then jerked his hand back. His fingers came away dark with burnt wood that was so fine it was almost powder. When he rubbed them together, the grit stung. It was better than being numb, Haruka supposed.

When he walked a little farther, he found clearing that had obvious rings scorched into the earth. In the center was a rune that had been carved so deep that it was collecting leaves and debris. The rune was unfamiliar; Haruka avoided stepping on top of any of the scorch marks but tried to get closer to the rune, just to look at it.

He knew it was a mistake almost as soon as he leaned in to look at the symbol. For a moment, there was silence, and then, only a second later, there was wind tugging at his clothes and whipping his hair into his face and eyes and pulling dead leaves off of the few trees that still had them. A heavy presence settled over the clearing, a pressure so great that it almost forced him to his knees. Haruka did stumble, catching himself just before he fell on top of the rune. Then, in the next instant, it was gone.

His injured hand was throbbing. Haruka raised it, trying to flex his fingers. They would barely move. His joints were stiff, and the tips of his fingers were starting to purple again.

Haruka straightened up, trying to once again distribute his weight evenly. That way, if another sudden gust of wind or crushing pressure swept through the clearing, no one would find him sprawled out on the ground. Not that anyone would find him out here anyway, he figured. It was beyond the temple doors, and he had no magic. No one would even know where to look.

He stalked between the lines of burnt earth carefully, looking for more runes. There was nothing except a whisper on the wind.

 _Come into the water_.

"You shouldn't be out here by yourself."

Startled, Haruka whirled on heel, one hand raised and a spell on his lips, a habit that couldn't be shaken even though he knew objectively that the spell would fall flat. He lowered his hand slowly, hoping beyond all hope that Rin couldn't read his irritation and then deciding on a whim that he didn't care either way.

Rin stood at the edge of the clearing, frowning and tense. His hands were shoved into the pockets of borrowed temple attire, and his hair was pulled back into a short tail at the base of his neck. "It's just me. Don't freak out."

He had no reply. No words came. Haruka clenched his jaw, making no effort to soften his expression. He had no magic; it was frustrating enough to feel weak and tired, to feel sore and helpless and like he was failing in his duty as a knight. If Rin was there to lecture him about it – or to argue with him, or to pick a fight about having not been chosen, or even to say that since he had been the one to fight off the demon, he was better suited to be a knight – Haruka wasn't sure he could keep himself in check. It was hard enough to focus without magic to guide his senses, let alone when he was hearing voices.

The redhead was silent for a long moment as well. His eyes were flickering over the clearing, taking in the scorch marks and the dead trees. Then, with a slight shrug, "You're making Makoto worry."

He doubted that was the only reason Rin had come after him. It must have taken some effort to track him down without a magical presence to follow. Haruka took in a deep breath.

 _Come into the water_ , the voice cut across his thoughts even more insistently. _Come_.

"I can take care of myself," Haruka said lowly, a notch louder than he would have spoken normally to try to block out that voice. "Why are you here?"

"Can you just shut up for one minute?" Rin took a step forward, and it was almost aggressive. "What the hell's wrong with you?"

Frustration was bubbling over faster than he could reel it back. He was reminded of the way they had argued right after the ceremony, when Rin had been so angry and he hadn't understood. Did Rin feel that way now? "What do you _want_ , Rin?"

The other boy set his mouth. "I _just_ wanted to talk. You're – it's trying to talk to you, isn't it?" Rin shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. Like he was admitting something personal. Something he wasn't supposed to discuss. "It's trying to get into your head."

The irritation melted away as quickly as it had bubbled up. " _What_?" Was Rin really talking about what Haruka _thought_ he was talking about? Was he not the only one who was hearing voices or having dreams that weren't really dreams?

"The demon, idiot. It's trying to get under your skin. Obviously it's working." Rin took a careful step forward, the edge of his foot brushing against a burnt patch. He immediately moved a step farther away, dragging his foot in the dirt to disrupt the pattern. "Don't let it."

Haruka held his ground. Rin was avoiding his gaze, staring hard instead at the dirt. The silence was thick between them, nearly as oppressive as the air in the clearing.

"It's been trying to talk to me, too," the redhead shook his head, shrugging his hands from his pockets and then crossing his arms over his chest. "It's hard to concentrate when it doesn't _shut_ _up_."

For once on this trip, something upon which they could actually agree.

Haruka felt his expression soften. "How did it get to you in the first place?" He flexed his fingers, hating the way that they barely moved. The digits were stiff and cold, like the chains that were hanging from his skin had wrapped even more tightly around his skin. The demon had to be connected to the chain somehow, Haruka was sure.

Rin scrubbed one hand over his face and then through his bangs, shifting again on his feet. It was an awkward shuffle. Admitting that they were both hearing voices was an uncomfortable conversation even if they had been on better speaking terms. "Not a _damn_ clue."

Then they were both smiling, a little hesitantly, like they weren't sure they should be smiling at each other but didn't know what else to do.

"I didn't know," Haruka said awkwardly.

Rin tossed a sharp glance over his shoulder. "It doesn't matter." He took a few steps forward, this time with purpose. Again, Rin was careful to avoid the scorch marks. He stopped suddenly, frozen in place. "It's getting louder."

 _Come into the water_. Haruka felt the words beat against his head like a drum. _Come into the water_. It was more forceful now, more desperate. _Come into the water_.

"Can't you block it out with magic?" he pressed. "If it's in your head with magic?"

Rin shrugged halfheartedly, barely lifting his shoulders. "It hasn't worked so far." The words in his head were getting so loud that he could hardly hear Rin speaking. "Don't you think I've tried?"

The wind picked up again, a sudden gust rocketing through the clearing. Rin hugged his arms to his chest, throwing another sharp glance over his shoulder. Haruka wished he had some magic; there was certainly an oppressive weight in the air, but he couldn't sense anything farther than the mangled tree barely an arm's reach away.

"Something's –"

Haruka saw Rin's mouth move, but he couldn't hear anything. Pressure was forcing his body to buckle, and he fell to his knees, catching himself on his palms before he could be flattened by the weight. It felt like his head was in a vice; the words were as loud as someone yelling directly into his ear, and his temples were throbbing with sudden, agonizing pain. His arm had gone completely stiff, locked from the shoulder down. His elbow wouldn't bend, even when the crippling weight pressed down even harder.

Rin looked like he was yelling something, arms flailing and magic crackling outward in a visible display of light. It was as though he was watching a projection, or – the way it had been in his dream. There was no sound. Nothing moved except Rin, who appeared to still be yelling. The brush of words across his mind was gone, replaced by empty, boundless silence. No sound at all.

Except the crunching of dead, dry leaves and the crackling of tree branches underfoot.

He struggled to his feet. The rune in the center of the scorched pattern was glowing, and Rin had moved to stand directly in front of him, magic sparking form his fingertips. The redhead turned, mouthing soundless words and reaching out to shake him.

When Rin's hand closed around his shoulder, Haruka felt his eyes nearly roll back with searing pain. Rin jerked back as though stung.

" _Come into the water_ , he says," a familiar voice, lilting and amused, broke through the quiet. "But how?"

Rin whirled back around, shoving Haruka back. It would have been a more touching gesture if Haruka had had any idea what his friend was saying. The only thing he could hear was the steady beat of someone's approaching steps.

"But _how_? Oh, the thought must enrage you! There _is_ no way into the water, don't you see?" The voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere; Haruka strained his eyes and ears trying to pinpoint the source. "It's impossible! And yet… there _must_ be a way."

The demon stepped from behind a tree. Long locks swayed in wind that shook the trees, though no leaves rustled. To his surprise, the demon addressed not him but _Rin_. "And you… If only you had listened. We could have made such a pair, you and I."

Rin shook his head. Haruka assumed he was speaking. The ponytail at the base of his neck whipped back and forth violently as he gestured.

"How I lament! Longing for something that will never come to pass…" It seemed odd for a demon to be so well-spoken; the man paused, clasping his hands behind his back. He stood before the rune, and its glow was growing, reaching upward and outward. "No matter. I have you both now."

The redhead looked over his shoulder again, eyes sharp and brows furrowed in confusion. Haruka was sure he looked the same; the demon wanted them both? Why Rin instead of Makoto?

They had no time to dwell on the thought; the creature sprang into action, movements too quick for Haruka to follow without magic to aid his eyes. Rin threw a hand out, a barrier crackling where the demon's claws collided with it, and the redhead followed through with a sword pulled from the water in the air, solidifying with a hasty spell. The monster and Rin drew apart, and then Rin followed, slashing forward. His sword broke apart, water droplets raining down on the blackened earth, only to reform as a sword a moment later.

Haruka found his feet rooted to the ground. He knew he needed to move; without magic, he _was_ a liability. He was in the way. It wasn't that he didn't want to move – he _couldn't_.

Pressure returned to the scorched clearing. A magical presence so dense and heavy that this time, it did force his knees to buckle. Haruka caught himself on his injured hand, arm trembling with the effort it took to keep from being flattened. So much for moving.

He had never seen Rin fight so seriously. The redhead had pulled another sword from the air and was using both to barrage the demon with an onslaught of attacks. Water danced and droplets shone as weapons clashed. The demon had pulled forth a long and treacherous-looking glaive, its handle ornate and glimmering in the midafternoon light.

A blast of wind threw Rin back into a tree. The demon followed, weapon poised. A poorly-timed downward slash, perhaps intentional, allowed Rin time to roll out of the way. Haruka gritted his teeth, struggling against the effects of the magical pressure. Was this what it felt like to be deep under water, crushed by the weight of the ocean? He imagined that it did; it was similar to the way he had felt before nearly being eaten, the immense waters of the supernatural tsunami closing in over his head.

It was so odd to watch the fight in complete silence. The only sounds he could hear were the demon's steps, the whistle of his weapon cutting through the air, the slight rustle of his clothing and the even slighter sounds of effort he made with a swing or a punch. Everything else was unerringly silent.

"Give up," the demon said softly. It sounded almost _gentle_. "This is not your fight."

A crackle of magic split the air, and Rin's expression was at once frightening and fierce. A strangle glow had settled over his face. His hands were clenched around the grips of his swords. His mouth moved. Whatever he was saying, it looked like he was biting off the words.

"Have it your way," the demon said, waving a hand dismissively. "You'll see."

They met again, magic sparking between them. Haruka tried to squint through the pain and pressure to watch, still struggling to move his limbs. The chains were slowly becoming more and more opaque, and water and slime dripped down his arms. He couldn't tell if it was real, imagined, or magic – and it didn't matter because the fact was, this was a problem.

Blows exchanged and magic flattening the little greenery that hadn't already been destroyed, the demon caught Rin around the side with his weapon, throwing him against another tree. This time, the bark crackled and buckled with the force of the blow. Rin doubled over, coughing. Red shone on his lips. The trunk behind him was bent nearly in half.

The demon pulled him up by the front of his top, one clawed finger pressed against his throat. They were far enough away that this time, Haruka could not even hear the demon speak, but he could see the blood that stained Rin's neck as the creature's claw pressed deeper. He _could_ hear a murmur, a quiet rumble. A spell?

The next moment, Rin was tossed aside, pulled back by tiny threads of magic connected to his clothes and skin. The redhead was bent backward at an unnatural angle, back arched and limbs dangling behind his body. When he straightened, his expression was slack and blank.

"And that," the demon said quietly, a slow smirk spreading across his lips, "is exactly what I mean. If only you had listened from the beginning."

Rin turned, movements mechanical and jerky. One of his eyes was closed, and his teeth and lips were tinted with blood from his struggle with the demon. The creature stood behind him, one hand on either of Rin's shoulders and leaning in close to whisper something to him.

Splitting pain made Haruka screw his eyes shut. He dug his fingers into the dirt, breathing hard and trying to find something, _anything_ to push the pain away and to reach out to his friend. The chains were wrapped tight around his body, and it was all he could do to keep himself upright, let alone help Rin.

When he found the strength to at least open his eyes, the redhead was walking past him with an unnatural gait. One of his arms was held at an awkward angle. Haruka hoped it wasn't broken.

The demon crouched before him, pulling the end of his ponytail over his shoulder and running clawed fingers through it. "Allow me to introduce myself," he said, rolling his neck on his shoulders. "You may call me Hytis."

 _Hytis_. Why did that name sound so familiar? Where had he heard it before? His mind was running on overdrive, pulling together thoughts and flashing from one idea to the next. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he swallowed hard, trying to fight the cold pit of nerves in his stomach. He couldn't think of anything.

Haruka clenched his jaw as fingers brushed against his cheek.

"Betrayal is the worst kind of pain, don't you think?"

He didn't need to hear or even have magic to sense the explosion that rocked the ground some distance away. Hytis smiled, lips drawn back to expose sharp teeth. Haruka wouldn't have been at all surprised to find a forked tongue hiding behind them.

"And… _again_."

It didn't make sense, but when the other man pressed the pad of one finger directly between Haruka's eyes, the pain became so intense that he lost what little focus he had left.

* * *

He must have blacked out.

Sound came crashing over his head like a wave, assaulting his ears with its volume.

" _Stop_!" Makoto's voice, thick with worry and anger, was loudest of all. " _Rin_!"

Hytis, standing only a few steps away, turned quickly. There was another magic jetting through the clearing now, this one light and familiar. The demon raised a hand, fingers splayed. Magic shone around his digits; tiny threads extending outward, connecting to something out of sight – to Rin, who was still moving like a puppet, like those wooden marionettes that were sometimes sold at festivals, made to twist and dance with the pull of a string.

They tumbled into the clearing, Rin's hands around Makoto's throat. Haruka felt his heart stop in his chest.

He craned his neck to see what Hytis was doing. The demon clenched his fist, pulling in the threads all at the same time, then threw his hand forward. Magic shone faintly, and Rin was suddenly jerked back.

"Now, now," Hytis said, waving one finger. Rin's expression twisted as though in pain. "I didn't say _kill him_ , did I?"

Makoto dragged himself to standing, massaging his throat with one hand and the other held in front of himself protectively. There was magic on his fingertips. When had he learned such control? "Snap out of it!" he was pleading, presence reaching for Rin. It was a tangible display; magic was oozing off of his body in waves. "Rin! I know you can hear me! Come on!"

"Snap out of it," Hytis repeated, looking back down at Haruka. "Oh, how sweet."

The chains were moving on their own now, coiling and uncoiling around Haruka's arms and legs. Makoto looked to him, expression distressed. Chains had even wound around his chest, and they were constricting his breathing. _Threads_ , he tried to say, but the pressure was too tight; he could hardly draw breath, let alone wheeze out the words. _Break the threads_.

Rei appeared from behind one of the trees, a sword of his own clasped in one hand. With a wild yell, he flung himself at Hytis; the demon took a quick step back, snatching up his own weapon at the last moment, too enthralled in watching Rin and Makoto to focus on another magical presence.

They whirled together, the demon fending off several expertly aimed blows. A glancing strike drew a thin, red line across his cheeks. Hytis paused, pressing his fingers to it. When they came away red, he smiled, all teeth.

"Very good," he praised. "And _again_."

Rei was unreadable, merely darting forward to continue pushing the creature back and away. It seemed effective, and Rei had always been masterful with a sword. Haruka was silently thankful that their top candidate for combat training was someone who could help.

Last was Nagisa; once Rei had pushed the demon back, the blond appeared at Haruka's side, fingers scrabbling at the chains. His presence was completely hidden, magic tucked away and out of sight. "Can you breathe?" he whispered, casting a quick, worried glance at Rei and Hytis. "Does it hurt?"

Haruka didn't have the strength to do more than shake his head. His eyes were fixated on Makoto, whose efforts to reason with their friend was doing little more than make Hytis laugh. He could hear the cackle even with the other man out of sight, and it made the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Rin stumbled forward, movements even more jerky now that Hytis was appropriately distracted. The redhead was still doing considerable damage, even though he had lost his swords. Makoto seemed unwilling to do more than jab at him.

There was too much magic swirling in the air to see the threads that connected Rin to Hytis. Haruka strained his eyes, shifting to try to loosen the chains for Nagisa's fingers. Try as he might, the blond seemed unable to wedge any space between skin and magicked metal. Haruka couldn't find the strength to grimace when nails dug into his skin, and Nagisa was too intent in his task to realize that he was scratching ineffectively.

"I know you're in there!" Makoto was still yelling. The magic surrounding him was starting to define itself, a shape taking form. It surrounded his body like an ever-shifting outline, similar to the way that Haruka kept his own magic tightly contained. "Listen to me! You can fight this!"

A tendril reached him, brushing his cheek. Unlike Hytis's touch, this one was gentle and soothing. Haruka closed his eyes.

Find their bond, the spirit had said. A more appropriate time probably wouldn't present itself.

"Haru-chan!" Nagisa shook him, distressed. "Don't!"

He opened his senses, ignoring the raw, unwholesome feeling of the chains and drinking in the presence of his priest. Makoto was a fountain, a pool overflowing, bubbling up from somewhere deep and spilling into the clearing with something that was _good_ and _light_.

It was there – and yet, it was still out of reach.

" _Rin_!" Makoto's desperate shout startled him into opening his eyes.

"Cut them! _Hurry_!" Rei was swiping at the air, at what Haruka assumed to be the threads connecting the demon to Rin. " _Makoto_! _Cut them_!"

Hytis had stilled, defending himself from Rei with one hand and using the other to manipulate the threads. "And he thinks it will be easy," he simpered. "Try. Try!"

This time, what interrupted his vision was a bright flash of light.

Something fluttered to the ground on top of the rune, and for a moment, Haruka saw nothing but white light so piercing that it made his head hurt.

* * *

When his vision righted again, several things had changed.

Nagisa had been flung aside into the trees, but a length of chain had gone with him. Haruka could wiggle his right arm. He couldn't see the blond, however, and he hoped Nagisa was just out of sight and not injured.

Rei was doubled over, using his sword to support his weight. Pieces of his shirtsleeves were missing, and cuts and scratches littered his arms. His magical energy was waning, but he looked no less determined.

Hytis was staring down Aiichirou, who was standing over the rune. He had a staff held in one hand, the other clutching a curse seal. Energy crackled off of the seal, and another had been stuck to Hytis's chest. It appeared to be doing little more than irritating him, but Haruka couldn't really tell. Aiichirou was standing his ground with a quiet sort of anger in his magic.

Finally, Rin had fallen still, face down in the dirt. One of his arms was definitely broken. Dirt and blood was matted into his hair, and Makoto was standing over him, expression startled, like he couldn't believe he had actually managed to take anyone out by himself – or maybe startled because he had been forced to attack a friend. Whatever the case, broken threads littered the ground around Rin's arms and legs. He would no longer be a puppet.

"You again." Hytis's tone was mild, and he lowered his hand. "I thought you would not be troubling me any further."

Aiichirou brandished the staff. "I could crush you with this barrier," he threatened. "The temple's holy power only needs to be activated."

Hytis's eyes slid sideways. To Makoto. "You would need more energy than _your_ fragile body has," he replied. "And your priest cannot even _begin_ to harness _that_ strength. Can he?"

The other acolyte didn't waver. "Care to test that?"

Hytis looked between Aiichirou, Rei, and then back to Makoto. "Hmph. Even I can tell when I have been outnumbered." Then, as an afterthought, "Even if all who oppose me have no _real_ power. You lack... _presence_ without the spirit."

Aiichirou did bristle at that. " _Leave_."

Makoto, who had taken a moment to stare hard at his own hands, turned slowly to face the demon. "I can make you," he said, quietly, like he wasn't sure he believed his own words. He stood a little straighter, repeating with more confidence, " _I_ won't let you hurt anyone."

Hytis offered one raised brow and didn't reply.

A lingering magic was left to crawl over Rin, perhaps to protect him from any further damage. More magic swept around Haruka, and this time, he did feel it – he _did_ feel it, his senses sang with newfound energy. Was this a bond? Was this accepting magic from another person? Or was it merely Makoto's magic burning off the evil in the chains? The metal was starting to fade from his skin, and slowly, ever so slowly, Haruka felt his mobility returning.

"I won't let you touch my friends," Makoto repeated lowly, fists clenched at his sides.

Hytis's gaze swept the clearing. "I have little interest in your friends," he said patiently, as though he was speaking to a child. "I have only interest in _you_. _No one_ can protect you from a betrayal." His gaze hardened. "Least of all from your chosen spirit."

A betrayal from the spirit? What was that even supposed to mean? The Water Spirit wanted to protect them. It wanted to keep them alive. Didn't it?

It certainly hadn't been doing a very good job lately, Haruka thought sourly. Then again, in the spirit's defense, it wasn't exactly in a position to offer them help.

Makoto's eyes were burning. They were almost glowing green as his magic danced and shimmered in the air around him. It was an impressive display of what he _could_ do, and, for the first time, Haruka got the sense that Makoto _did_ know how to use it. This was not just an empty display. This had a purpose.

Hytis seemed to realize it, too. He held up both hands as though in surrender. "You and I have much to talk about." Smile gone, his sobered expression was haunting. The skin beneath his eyes looked bruised as shadow danced across his dark circles. "I think that you know it."

The air around Makoto _shimmered_ for a moment, and then – and then the spot where he had been standing was empty. Aiichirou threw forward a curse seal, and the electrical crackle it made upon connection with Hytis was like thunder in his ears. He yelled something, a spell Haruka was not familiar with, and the sound resonated like a gong; at the same time, he pointed with the tip of his staff, a magic collecting there the longer he chanted. The words were running together, he was speaking so quickly, and Haruka couldn't understand enough to puzzle out the spell's purpose.

An immense surge of Makoto's concentrated magic crashed down on their clearing. It washed over Haruka like a warm and welcome wave, and Makoto reappeared where Hytis had been standing only a moment before with crushing presence.

The demon was gone, leaving nothing in his place but several deep gouges in the earth and scorch marks so wide they were nearly as tall as Makoto. Blood, pungent and sticky, formed a neat circle. It had to be from the creature; it stained the ground in a sickly green pattern. Makoto's hands were covered in the stuff as well, though he didn't seem to notice.

The clearing was still gritty and filled with negative energy, but the chains were fading from his skin. They broke off in large chunks; where each piece fell to the ground, it left a slight indent in the earth with its weight. Haruka struggled to his feet, feeling at once helpless and ineffective but also incredibly grateful. Makoto, feet touching the ground over Hytis's spot of departure, stood upright for only a moment before he fell sideways, sprawled out across the dirt.

"Makoto!" He had yelled the other boy's name before he even realized Makoto was falling; Haruka staggered toward his priest, falling next to him on legs that refused to cooperate. "Makoto," he said again, rolling the brunet onto his back.

"I'm – I'm okay," Makoto smiled hesitantly, reaching for Haruka with shaking hands. His priest gripped him by the forearms, tugging him closer. "Haru, you're – I was so worried… Is – is Rin – is he okay? I saw – but I couldn't help him –"

Haruka looked across the clearing. Rin was struggling upright as well, bloody but no less alive. Relief washed over him. Aiichirou was running toward him, crouching to inspect his injuries and insisting that he not move his broken arm. "He's fine," Haruka said, leaning forward. "Are you sure –?"

Makoto jerked him forward, reaching up with both hands to fist them in the front of his temple robes. Their mouths met, and there was suddenly magic _everywhere_ , slamming into his body with the force of a punch and knocking the air out of his lungs but without any accompanying pain. Makoto kissed him hard, and it was a little messy and a little weird – their friends could see, if they were watching, if they had the strength to see, but it didn't matter because there was magic flowing into him like fire in his blood and ice on his skin.

They broke apart. Makoto looked both a little startled and a little embarrassed; his cheeks were dusted with pink.

"Sorry, I – I had to," he apologized. "I was just – I worried, and you were gone, and we came after you, and I thought – I thought he was going to kill all of us, and now – you're – well, we're all –"

Haruka kissed him again, relieved.

* * *

They returned to the temple tired but victorious.

As soon as Hytis had disappeared, Aiichirou had ushered them back into the temple. Ushered was perhaps the wrong word; everyone had been too tired to do much more than hobble, and Rin had to be supported after having his energy so completely stolen. Makoto was dragging his feet as well, magic following after his steps like a breadcrumb trail. Nagisa had been thrown into some bushes a short distance away, but he was fine except for the leaves and twigs that remained in his hair. Rei was fine as well, minus the cuts and scrapes and the lack of energy. Rin and Makoto were the ones who had received the most damage. Bruises were already coloring Makoto's neck in the distinct shape of fingertips.

Something had happened, though. Something had changed. Patterns of chains still shone on his skin, but they no longer bothered him, and his left hand no longer ached. He was hyperaware of Makoto's magic as it coiled around his injured hand, cradling it.

Everyone pretended things were fine and normal until they were in the innermost part of the temple. Aiichirou sat them all down, brought tea and snacks, and then insisted that someone tell him what the hell happened.

Makoto shared his part of the story, and grudgingly, Haruka did as well. It definitely helped to fill in the blanks.

Then, staring hard at his hands, Rin mumbled something like an apology for what had happened. His side needed no explanation; while they didn't know what kind of spell the demon had used to turn him into a personal marionette, the fact was that he hadn't been responsible for his actions. Makoto had laughed it off, fussing over the state of Rin's hair and worrying about any lingering effects of being a demon's puppet and his broken arm, but there was a lack of tension in the air that hadn't existed since – well, since before the ceremony.

It wasn't Rin's fault that the demon had been able to get such a handhold into him. It was probably their fault for isolating him in the first place – they hadn't tried hard enough to make him feel comfortable in his new role as a _not_ -chosen. Haruka tried not to think about that. At least, not now.

Rin met his eyes across the room, and, regardless, there was a silent understanding between them. Eventually, they would talk. For now, things were okay, even with Makoto holding his hand like a lifeline. Rin's eyes had softened for Makoto, and eventually they would soften for his knight, too.

* * *

 "May I see your hand, Hazuki-san?" Aiichirou held out one of his own hands. "You took a piece of the chain, you said? I just want to make sure it's not… hanging around."

Nagisa stuck out both of his hands with a smile that lacked his usual energy. "Sure, sure. What, you think we're not safe this far in the temple?"

Aiichirou was quiet for a moment. "Now? Who knows?" It was a little bit cryptic. He pressed Nagisa's hand out flat and examined one at a time slowly. "What I mean to say is that it probably isn't safe anywhere." A flash of light and a puff of smoke emanated from the center of Nagisa's palm. The smoke faded quickly, and Aiichirou drew back, seemingly satisfied. "There." He moved on to Rin, settling down slowly next to the redhead. "How are you feeling?"

Haruka watched from against the far wall. Makoto had fallen asleep on his shoulder, hunched over to rest his head there, and his weight was warm and comforting. There was some kind of link between them, something that was allowing a vague trickle of magic to pass from Makoto to himself, but not nearly enough to replenish him completely. It was a start. He tried not to think about the electricity of their kisses and what would happen if they had had more skin contact. Would that help? He imagined that it would – and not just because it was enjoyable to imagine.

Whatever the case, there was magic that he could access. Haruka was familiar enough with his own magic and with Makoto's presence to understand that it was not his magic _or_ his priest's. This magic came directly from, he assumed, the Water Spirit, who was pouring all of its might into Makoto.

Rin had set himself up on the floor, sprawled out on his side and trying to act like nothing that had happened bothered him. Haruka knew better. This would add at least an extra day of recovery to their time at the temple.

When they had first gotten back to the temple, Aiichirou had made short work of setting Rin's arm and taking him straight to someone who could speed up the healing process. Medical magic was uncommon but extremely useful, but there were so few medical mages that Haruka wasn't even sure what element was best-suited to healing. It took a special kind of disposition to practice healing magics, however, and few were suitable. At the very least, they were lucky enough that Rin didn't have to spend weeks with a constant reminder of what had happened. The bruises on Makoto's neck would be reminder enough.

"Fine," the redhead said shortly. "I'm _fine_."

Aiichirou ignored him and pushed his bangs back from his forehead. "I'd like to examine you, too. Lingering magic can be bad for you."

Rin only looked annoyed. "I can take care of it myself," he said, swatting the other boy's hand away. " _Thanks_."

"I'm sure you can," Aiichirou said, trying to reach forward again a little sheepishly. "You're very capable, Matsuoka-senpai."

That seemed to placate Rin long enough for the other acolyte to peer into his face. "Thanks," he said reluctantly.

Nagisa and Rei had taken up residence at the table. The cushions in the inner temple were thick and comfortable, but the tables were far smaller, designed to seat fewer people. "Quit squirming, Rei-chan! This is good for you!" Nagisa was saying, smearing some pasty substance onto Rei's cheeks. "It'll help you get better faster!"

Rei wrinkled his nose. "It stinks," he said pointedly.

"We all stink," Nagisa said, matter of fact. "In case you haven't noticed."

"It's not beautiful at all," Rei protested. "I don't like it."

"Don't care!" the blond said over him. "Healing trumps being beautiful!"

Makoto chuckled against his shoulder. Haruka nearly jumped.

Despite being attacked by a demon, everyone was acting surprisingly normal. Haruka wondered how long that would last. He wasn't complaining – the normalcy was nice. The inner temple was quiet and calm and peaceful, and he felt safe with Makoto and his friends there. Everyone was safe for now.

"I'm going to get some blankets and see if I can find some futons." Aiichirou got to his feet, stretching. "Everyone, please rest! We'll want to get back to Iwatobi quickly now."

Haruka felt a slight pang of guilt. With everything that had happened, he had completely forgotten about what the demon – Hytis, he reminded himself – might do to their hometown.

"We?" Nagisa parroted.

Aiichirou tucked his hands into his sleeves. "I'm coming with you," he answered. "If – if that's okay, I mean! I want to help!"

"I think he should come," Makoto spoke up, but when Haruka looked down at him, his eyes were still closed. "We need all the help we can get."

Haruka closed his eyes and nodded. Wasn't that the truth – it had only become more obvious that they were woefully outclassed. If Makoto could figure out how to harness whatever strength he had drawn upon to deliver such a colossal blow, perhaps they weren't at _such_ a disadvantage.

"Fine, whatever," Rin sighed, lying back down. He raised his recently healed arm and rotated his wrist in slow circles. "Don't slow us down."

"I won't," Aiichirou promised, ducking out of the room with a slight smile.

 _Don't slow us down._ Well. There was only one way to do that, and it was to finish figuring out this whole bond issue. Haruka sighed, resting his head against Makoto's, the brunet's hair tickling his cheek. Whatever the case, it could wait until they had rested a bit.

Haruka took solace in the fact that no voice whispered any words across his mind for the remainder of the evening. No one told him to come into the water, and no spirit tried to impress the importance of a bond.

It was finally quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See ya next time! For realz, man, look forward to that awkward Mako-Rin conversation. Because it is coming.


	15. Drop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lee: Hey guys! It's... me. /sweats nervously
> 
> 1\. Notes: Guys, I did not realize this, but Makoto is only 3 inches taller than Haruka? I thought the height difference was more exaggerated… Weelelelelellll WORKS FOR ME.
> 
> 2\. Sorry for the terrible, terrible delay! I really am. I won't bore you with excuses, though.
> 
> 3\. I can't even. Take this chapter away from me.

Even safely tucked behind the temple doors and underneath the re-erected protective barrier, Makoto found it difficult to relax.

It was only partly because his entire body still thrummed with energy, with magical power – he had used so much magic, _so much_ , in a simple attempt to drive off the demon from sacred ground. He had no idea if it had worked or not; despite his best efforts, his senses were not so exact that he could tell if there had been a point of contact. His hands had been slick with oddly colored blood, or what he assumed to be blood, so Makoto also assumed there had been some damage. He wished it was possible to know just _how_ much damage he had caused, however; the idea that he had used magic for something other than attracting strangers and making Haruka tense was a point that Makoto wanted to remember. If he could cling to the memory and learn to replicate it, the sweeping feeling of magic rushing down his arms, through his fingertips, washing over the earth and swelling into the sky, well, perhaps he could find and rescue the spirit easier than they had originally believed.

That, though, felt too much like wishful thinking. Makoto reminded himself to be grounded, that he had to focus on more reasonable goals before he could try applying himself to the dauntless task of rescuing their guardian spirit.

Regardless, the magic flowing through him made his skin crawl with heat and prickle with discomfort. Or, if Makoto was being honest with himself, perhaps that discomfort stemmed from the fact that when he closed his eyes, he could still see Rin's blank expression and dead eyes as he wrapped his hands around the brunet's throat.

He knew, of course, that Rin was not responsible. He knew objectively that it was the demon's influence that had turned him into a puppet. There was no way Rin could have broken free from that control on his own, and it hadn't even been possible to reach Rin emotionally during that time. It was as though Rin's body had simply been a vessel for the demon's malice, a shell of Rin's real self – a doll, even, with his friend's face but with no soul behind dark eyes, not even a flicker of life.

Rin had muttered an apology, awkwardly looking away and rubbing at his forearm. It was sincere enough, Makoto thought; Rin really did look as though he felt guilty about what had happened.

No one knew exactly _how_ it had happened, however, and that was what made Makoto nervous. If there was no way to tell how it had happened, what were the chances that it could happen again, even if the demon wasn't present? There was no way to tell, and without any sense of security, Makoto found it difficult to relax completely.

Worse, he felt just as guilty about it as Rin had looked during his apology; cold worry gnawed at his stomach, twisting it into knots, and with all of them cooped up into such a small room as the temple barriers were returned to their rightful positions and the temple was returned to proper working order, there was no escape from the feeling. He couldn't even bring it up and talk it through with Haruka – who, again, if he was being honest with himself, probably wouldn't know what to say anyway.

Aiichirou flitted in and out of the room for a while, gathering up futons for them to pile atop and some spare blankets. There weren't enough to go around, but Makoto had voiced, feeling a little shy and small in saying it, that he and Haruka were comfortable sharing. Nagisa had smothered giggles behind his hand until Rei, exasperated, elbowed him in the ribs.

Despite having apologized, Makoto knew as well that Rin still felt awkward about the whole situation. He was decidedly avoiding the brunet's gaze, focusing most of his attention on Aiichirou when he wandered into the room and then settling in to ignore them when the other acolyte was gone.

At some point, Haruka had twined their fingers, expression blank but bordering pleased. Makoto knew him well enough to see tells; the corners of Haruka's mouth were just barely upturned, and his eyes were softer. It likely had something to do with the way that a tiny trickle of magic was flowing between them. Like a bond, perhaps? Was this a bond? If so, how did they go about making it stronger?

Makoto drifted off into some hazy state between asleep and awake, determinedly focusing all of his attention on expanding that link. The dead, unwholesome feeling that had surrounded Haruka's left hand was slowly disappearing, eaten away by the presence of magic in his system again, Makoto assumed. If he could break the chains on Haruka, what would stop him from breaking any link between Rin and their demon adversary? Or, better, what would stop him from breaking the chains on the Water Spirit?

Whatever the case, with his head rested against Haruka's shoulder – which was, he hated to admit, a little uncomfortable given their relative heights – and Haruka's head rested against his own, he gave in to the heady desire to sleep.

* * *

Makoto woke with a startled gasp. He had dreamt of hands reaching for him, hands reaching from dark doorways and from bottomless puddles, pulling him down, pulling him under, wrapped around his neck and starving him of oxygen. He had dreamt of his friends' backs as he was pulled under, and Rin's dead eyes staring back at him out of gloomy blackness, his only company as searing cold sapped away his life.

To his surprise, when he was awake and alert enough to look around, the room was empty.

It was dark; there were no windows this deep in the temple, and all the lights had been extinguished. He could just barely make out the shape of another person across the room. It looked like Rin – or, at least, it looked like where he had laid earlier, resting on his side and outline rising and falling just high enough to disturb the shape of his silhouette.

Haruka's presence was gone from his side. There was no warmth there, and no other person. Makoto rubbed his cheek, trying to blink the sleep from his eyes. Nagisa and Rei were missing along with Aiichirou. As far as he could tell, he and Rin were the only two occupants of the room.

Was he still dreaming? Makoto took in a deep breath, licking his lips. He felt clear-headed and alert, and even though his pulse was still slowing in his ears, the room felt real. Probably not dreaming, then, but there was no way to be sure. He hoped it wasn't a dream. Makoto had certainly had enough of lifelike dreams.

He shuffled to his feet, patting out borrowed temple robes. Aiichirou had brought them something to change into before they had laid futons across the floor. The room had been small enough that their combined futons took up nearly the entire floor; it reminded him of their sleepovers when they had been younger, before Haruka and Rin and Rei had become so immersed in magical education that they had forgotten how to have fun for a while.

Whatever the case now, Makoto felt stifled in their tiny room, stifled and uncomfortable without Haruka's rekindling presence by his side. Perhaps he was even a little discomfited by the fact that it was only himself and Rin, and, try as he might, he couldn't quite shake the slight nervousness that accompanied remembering hands around his throat.

Makoto stepped quietly toward the door, trying not to step too closely to the blanketed, breathing shape. He thought he was doing a good job until Rin spoke, his voice gruff from sleep.

"Where are you going?"

He didn't sound annoyed, just curious. It was almost mildly that he said it; when Makoto looked back over his shoulder, Rin had propped his head up on his hand again. It was too dark to see his face clearly, but Rin's magic, at least, was attentive enough to slink towards him.

"I was just going to look for everyone," Makoto admitted, shifting on his feet and trying to fight the urge to fidget. "I was going to come right back."

Rin rolled onto his back, both hands clasped over his stomach. "Whatever."

"I was!" Makoto repeated, defensive without really understanding why. "I wasn't just going to leave you here. Do you have any idea what everyone else is up to?"

"They went to get something to eat, I think." Now Rin's tone was flat, disinterested. Like he knew there was tension and didn't want to address it. "I dunno."

The brief sweep of guilt that washed over him made his mouth dry. Makoto licked his lips again. Then, in a split-second decision, he crossed the room and sat down on the futon next to Rin's, peering at the redhead's face.

Rin's expression was muddled for a moment, the darkness making the lines in his expression seem exaggerated. For an even longer moment, he was quiet.

"Rin," Makoto started, realizing after a moment of his own that he wasn't sure what he was trying to say. He floundered, settling on the only thing that seemed appropriate. And it _was_ appropriate. He should have said it a long time ago. "I'm sorry."

" _Tch_." The redhead's only reply was to roll onto his opposite side, showing his back to Makoto. "Why don't you just run after Haru?"

Makoto hesitated, reaching for Rin's shoulder. He glanced once over his own shoulder, worried that their friends would come barging back in while he was trying to puzzle through this mess of a relationship with which he and Rin had apparently become comfortable. When had that happened? They had grown up together – they had stayed up late together, been scolded by their parents for staying out past dark or for doing something dangerous, had run yelling to Haruka's house and then complained of the heat, laughing between breaths. When had he become so comfortable with Rin's unhappiness?

"No, I –" It was time to be honest. Makoto let his hand drop back to his lap. "It would have been better if it was you and Haru instead of me," he said hollowly. "I'm not… I'm not really cut out for this sort of thing, am I?" He gave a slight, self-deprecating laugh and looked down at his hands, twisting his fingers. "So… I'm sorry. I wish… I wish things had been different."

The brunet pressed his mouth into a thin line, closing his eyes. What would it have been like if it had been Haruka and Rin instead of himself? They would probably have the spirit back already; there would be no demon lasting long enough to terrorize them _or_ Iwatobi. There would be no great quest to some faraway temple and no worry that he was going to get Haruka killed with his lack of magic and his lack of combat experience. Instead, there would just be worry that something bad would happen to Rin and Haruka and a gnawing sense of defeat. If Rin and Haruka had ended up together, Makoto would have lost perhaps the only chance he had to be close to the boy he had liked for as long as he could remember. It would have been Rin and Haruka that were the destined pair, and he would have watched from the sidelines, unhappy with the outcome but unable to do anything to change it.

"I'm sorry that I didn't consider your feelings," Makoto said after a pause, shaking his head. How could he have been so stupid? What if the real reason Rin was so upset was because _he_ had wanted that connection with Haruka? It had fallen right into Makoto's lap, and Rin had been working for his entire life to attain a rank, the town's respect, and perhaps even Haruka's recognition. Would that ever happen now? "I've been –"

"Shut up," Rin said quietly without turning over. "I don't want to hear it."

Makoto sighed out a slow breath, trying to work up the courage to actually put his hand on Rin's shoulder. "I just wanted to say…"

Rin sat up abruptly, planting his hands on the blankets and twisting his torso back around. Makoto jerked his hand back. "I told you to shut up, didn't I?" He didn't sound angry despite his words; if anything, Makoto would have called his tone defeated. "It doesn't matter. Just _drop it_."

"It does matter!" Makoto protested, looking up from his lap sharply. He felt his magic spike along his shoulders with his emotions and tamped it back down, struggling with it and losing track of his thoughts. "You're my friend, Rin. I don't want to lose you over something stupid."

Rin mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like _you're stupid_ before shaking his head. "Stop apologizing for something that isn't your fault," he said plainly. "I said it doesn't matter, didn't I?"

Their eyes met. Makoto smiled hesitantly. "Just because you weren't chosen doesn't mean you aren't important."

The redhead's expression tightened. "I –"

"We need your help, Rin," he continued, lowering his gaze and twisting his hands again. "We can't do this without you – without _any_ of you."

Rin's mouth twisted. It was _almost_ a smile. "I know."

"So…"

"It's fine."

"But…"

"It's _fine_."

This time, Rin did smile. It was such a stark contrast to the way he had been brooding, Makoto found himself smiling as well. The hostility in the air was already starting to melt away – or maybe it had been imagined hostility in the first place, awkwardness manifesting as bad feelings. It would take time to return things to normal, but at least they had taken the first steps. It had been worth reminding Rin that they were not enemies, and that he cared. Perhaps they _had_ done something right. Perhaps this _was_ the right way to go about things. The Water Spirit's mistake – rather, its choice – might lead to something good after all.

Even if when he tried to resume speaking to Rin normally, picking up where they left off before any of the ceremony business, all he got was an exaggerated eye roll and a half-sarcastic, "Don't push it."

* * *

It was a very different experience to sit with Rin and have a semi-normal conversation with him. Makoto hadn't realized how much he missed it until they were sitting across from each other, both cross-legged and half-cocooned in blankets and trying to dissect what the hell had actually happened.

Rin held out his hand, flexing his fingers. "I don't _feel_ any different. I don't think it'll happen again. Not to me, at least."

Makoto wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean. _Not to me_. Did that mean Rin thought it might happen to someone else? He tried to ignore the cold wash of nerves that swept through him. "Could you - you couldn't, um. Did you _know_?" He couldn't figure out a better way to phrase the question. Makoto couldn't imagine what it must have been like to wake up with hands around a friend's throat. Unless somewhere, deep down, Rin actually _was_ harboring resentment.

The redhead's mouth twisted. It was an uncomfortable expression. "No," he said flatly. "Nothing. I can't remember anything, either. It was all black."

A prisoner in his own mind, then. How was that even possible? Makoto remembered the books he had skimmed on magical properties and abilities and different ways to apply spells. Nothing had mentioned being able to keep someone captive within their own body. To lock them away and then use their limbs for whatever will the caster wanted. He tried not to shudder. What kind of creature could cause people to forget themselves?

Perhaps that was a better question. He remembered from earlier, from before, the conversation they had had with the other redheaded acolyte and Aiichirou, about the likelihood of different creatures holding such grudges. A siren, they had mentioned. Siren song could make people forget themselves. That was what Makoto had heard, at least. Siren song was supposed to be thick and intoxicating with the potential to make someone forget who they were and what they wanted. Could that suffice as explanation? He couldn't help but wonder; would a siren song even work on someone as stubborn and willful as Rin?

But there had certainly been no _song_ in that clearing. Nothing except burnt runes in the ground and the bitter taste of dark magic in the air. Makoto swallowed hard.

"I'm sorry," he settled on, quietly, twisting his fingers in his lap. "Really."

Rin looked away, mouth still twisted. "I told you to stop that, didn't I?"

"Can't help it," Makoto mumbled, embarrassed by himself. "Sorry."

Exasperated, Rin stood, still bundled in the blankets. He paced the far wall once, twice, then a third time before returning to his futon. "I just… don't understand it." He didn't elaborate, and Makoto wondered what it was Rin meant. What did he not understand? How the demon had gained control over him? Or did he not understand how Makoto could have been so useless, standing helplessly aside and allowing his friend to be manipulated? A stab of guilt somewhere in his middle made Makoto stare hard at his hands again. "He said something to me. The thing."

That hadn't been what Makoto was expecting. He sat up straighter. "What?"

"He told me it wasn't my fight," Rin said lowly, one fist clenched in the blankets. " _Not my fight_."

Makoto said nothing. He hadn't had a chance to talk to Haruka about what had really gone on before they had all stumbled out of the temple, following desperately after the spike of malicious magic. What had happened between Rin, Haruka, and the demon? What, exactly, had transpired?

Rin stared down at him, eyes practically burning. "Like I wasn't even _worth_ fighting."

"That's not true, Rin - I, we, _we_ all know you're the strongest person we know!" Makoto felt his gut twist uncomfortably. "You can't let what some crazy demon said get to you."

The redhead's gaze didn't soften. "He beat me so easily."

"He didn't!" Makoto protested, almost cutting Rin off early. "I probably wouldn't have been able to do any damage if you hadn't fought him first. I don't know how you do it, Rin… I want to be strong, but…" _I feel like I'll never catch up_ , Makoto wanted to say. "I just… don't know how," he said instead, softly, like he wasn't sure he should be admitting it in the first place.

This time, Rin's eyes did soften a little bit, and he sat back down, tucking his knees up into his chest. "I guess," he allowed. "You just have to keep training."

"And you, too," Makoto countered pointedly. "I meant it, Rin. We need your help. We can't do this without you."

For the first time in days, when Rin looked up, his smile was genuine. It curled the corners of his mouth gently, just slightly, but that was enough. "Yeah, well, we better figure out how to get rid of that damn demon first."

Makoto smiled back, hesitantly, then faltered. "How are we supposed to do that if we don't even know what it is?"

Rin sat back, stretching his legs out and resting his weight on his hands. "Dunno. Does it really matter? Demon magic's not all that different from ours. All we really need to do is to figure out its weak spots."

One of his wrists itched along the entwined tattoos; Makoto scratched at it idly. "I guess so…"

They stared at each other, expressions mirroring their confusion. In order to defeat a demon they knew nothing about, not even a general classification, they had to first figure out its weaknesses? Maybe with another member added to their mismatched group they would be able to better defend their home and the towns along the way. Makoto worried his lower lip between his teeth. What if the demon went after other towns and villages? What if he decided to start attacking their loved ones? Again, he worried for his family, and for Gou, and for all of their friends who didn't know what was going on.

After a moment of silence, Rin looked back at the room's door with an irritated scowl. "What is taking them so damn long? I'm _starving_."

It sounded so normal and so genuine that it made Makoto give a startled laugh.

* * *

Their friends finally trickled back in some time later. He and Rin had spent a good amount of time just catching up - Makoto had told him about the ceremony, about the demon rising from the depths of the temple and attacking him, about the fear he had felt, about how worried he was that their families might be targeted next. Rin had listened impassively, but he seemed just as determined now to figure out how they would get rid of the demon terrorizing them before it could do permanent damage. When Rin had been mid-sentence in an explanation of the difference between types of possessions, which Makoto had finally remembered to ask, Nagisa appeared in the doorway with a tray clattering in his hands.

"We're back!" he declared, shoving the door further aside with only his shoulder. "Did ya miss us?"

Rin scoffed. Makoto gave a quiet laugh, scooting a futon out of the blond's way. "Welcome back," he said. "What's that?"

"I brought the rice!" Nagisa smiled, setting the tray down and then plopping down on the futon next to Makoto. "Rei-chan's got all the other stuff. We made him carry the most."

He and Rin exchanged a glance, and it felt almost conspiratorial. So much friendlier than it had felt in ages, and it obviously did not go unnoticed by Nagisa, whose smile was so wide he was practically beaming at them.

"What about Haru?" Makoto piped up after a moment. "Did he go with you?"

"Ah, kinda – he went off to the Water altar, I think. Said something like, 'oh, I need to think and be alone and brood because I'm so deep and conflicted,'" Nagisa made quotes in the air with his fingers and then dissolved into laughter at his impression of Haruka. "I don't know. He said he wouldn't be too long."

"He didn't say that stuff," Makoto protested with another slight laugh.

Nagisa only offered his wide grin. "I'm paraphrasing!"

Rin, on the other side, peered curiously at the rice. "So… You brought rice and nothing else? Kinda useless, don't you think?"

"Well, we _would_ have more food if Rei-chan could keep up, so it's not _my_ fault," the blond replied. "You'd think with all those rippling muscles he'd be able to get here faster."

Rei cleared his throat from the doorway, an embarrassed flush creeping up into his cheeks and ears. "I've brought something for everyone to eat." He gestured with the tray he was holding, a simple meal for everyone but still probably more than Makoto had eaten all day. The temple had been feeding them well, of course, but Makoto couldn't remember the last meal he had had, not with how distraught and distracted they had been earlier in the day and all the confusion that the demon had caused.

"Thank you," he said when no one else spoke, clearing away some of the blankets and pillows in order to make room for Rei to sit as well. "Should we wait for Haru?"

Rin made a noise between a scoff and a laugh. "His loss if he doesn't want to show up for meals."

"I say we eat!" Nagisa countered, clipping the redhead with a sharp jab of his elbow. "Haru-chan'll show up when he's hungry. He'll just wander in all confused and won't really say anything but _of course_ you'll know what he wants, right, Mako-chan?"

Makoto blinked once, twice, lips pursed, not sure how to answer and less sure if Nagisa was joking or not.

He was saved from having to come up with a reply when Aiichirou stepped into the room, balancing bowls and chopsticks in his arms. "Sorry I'm late! I got caught up in the halls!" He smiled, carefully picking his way across half-folded futons and then settling down. "I hope the food isn't cold."

Nagisa snapped up a bowl and started dishing rice. "If it is, we know who to blame!"

Color snuck into Aiichirou's cheeks. "I – I didn't mean…"

"I meant Rei-chan," Nagisa said, matter-of-fact and flashing a grin at Rei, who immediately began to sputter in protest. "Not you, of course! Youhave _real_ responsibilities!"

"He's joking," Rin interrupted, a little gruff. "Just eat."

"Of course I'm joking! I don't make _mean_ jokes like Rin-chan does!"

"I don't make _mean jokes –_ "

Makoto smiled, busying himself with dishing his own bowl. Whatever was eating at Haruka, he would come talk to them on his own terms. For now, Makoto wanted to enjoy the familiarity of the scene, the way it felt more like a late lunch on a pleasant afternoon with old friends and new.

* * *

It was some time later that, exactly as Nagisa had predicted, Haruka wandered back into the room, expression blank enough to make him look a little lost – though he couldn't have been if he had found his way back on his own. Aiichirou had been making plans to move them back to the outer temple, and they had spent part of the afternoon cleaning up the mess they had made with the blankets and futons and spare pieces of clothing. As usual, it had involved a lot of lighthearted bickering, as though no one was ready to confront the gravity of their odd situation. Makoto was fine with that. It gave him something to think about other than worrying.

Makoto had been kneeling over a futon, carefully folding it. Several had already been replaced in a closet down the hall, and he had volunteered to take the remainder, half hoping for a chance to slip away and look for Haruka once he was finished. This certainly saved him the time.

"Makoto." Haruka, serious as ever, stopped short in the doorway. "Come here."

The chattering in the corner stopped for a moment. Makoto swore he could feel eyes crawling on the back of his neck.

The brunet stood, taking the futon with him. "What is it?"

Haruka stepped aside to let him pass without any change in expression. Their friends resumed squabbling as soon as the door had fallen shut behind them.

"I _told_ you he'd get hungry!" Nagisa was saying. "Even Haru-chan has to eat sometime!"

There was some kind of reply, muffled by an indignant squawk and a smattering of laughter.

Makoto smiled hesitantly as Haruka fell into step beside him. Usually Makoto did all the talking when it was quiet, but there was a heaviness in the air in the inner temple, and it stilled his tongue. Haruka's blank expression had shifted to brooding and pensive, anyway, and for once, Makoto wasn't sure what to say.

"I went back to the altar," his knight said without preamble. Makoto nodded along as though this was something he hadn't known. "I just wanted to be alone." Haruka slid the closet door open when Makoto half gestured to it. Once the futon was tucked away, Haruka's fingers curled around his wrist. Makoto paused in his tracks. It reminded him of that first night at the inn, Haruka's hand around his wrist, thoughts of – well. It also reminded him that their friends were not far, and it was no time or place to be thinking about _that_.

When Haruka didn't immediately speak, this time Makoto found his voice. "H-Haru, what…?"

"When you kissed me yesterday, you gave magic to me," Haruka said quietly, and Makoto leaned a little closer to hear. "I'm going to kiss you."

"What – _here_?" Makoto stumbled over the words. "Now?"

All he got for an answer was Haruka's hand on the back of his neck tugging him closer. Their lips met, brushed, barely a kiss at all. There was no spark of magic or anything that Makoto had been expecting, and Haruka looked, for an instant, mildly disappointed.

He still hadn't figured out what to do with his hands when Haruka kissed him again, harder this time, with more confidence and the press of tongue. The hand on the back of his neck tangled in the ends of his hair, cupping his head; Makoto was glad their friends weren't in the hall like they had been in the clearing, not with the embarrassing way Haruka's simple touch made his skin crawl.

Their mouths broke apart as Haruka drew back, and Makoto drew his own tongue over his lower lip. "Sh-shouldn't we –"

Haruka's brows jumped impatiently. "No."

Makoto breathed out a laugh, leaning in for another kiss. This time he felt braver, a warmth spreading from where Haruka's fingers still enclosed his wrist and where they cupped the back of his head. There was no sensation of Haruka's magic crawling over his skin, but perhaps that was a good thing; when they parted between kisses, breath mingling in the space between their mouths, Makoto could feel the heat creeping into his cheeks as well.

It was a curious sensation to have his magic trickling down his arms but not unpleasant – if anything, it was probably responsible for the goose bumps that were erupting along the back of his neck. Magic was creeping along his skin and then disappearing into the points of contact he had with Haruka, and it was such a relief to see it go, a burden from his shoulders.

It almost made him jump when Haruka's teeth pulled at his lower lip insistently, the kiss at once a little deeper with the slickness of tongue. Makoto swore he could feel a string of magic between their mouths, something that made his head swim with dizzying heat. He could feel his pulse picking up, heart beating too loud in his own ears.

Haruka pulled back after a long moment, after one kiss had bled into another and another, messy and wet but leaving him blindly leaning in for more even as his knight drew back. It was a small comfort to see the pink that dusted Haruka's cheeks as well, the slight part between his lips as he took in a deep breath.

"You're right."

It was as though Haruka was speaking underwater; the words were garbled. Makoto blinked slowly. "What? About – what?"

This time it was almost a smirk that curled those lips. "We shouldn't here." The hand on the back of his head slid away slowly, as though Haruka was savoring the contact. "Later."

"Wait – is that – Haru, that's… my magic." Makoto grabbed onto Haruka's retreating hand with both of his own, jumping for something to talk about now that they weren't kissing anymore, anything to stop himself from leaning in for another. "It's… Is this what they meant? A bond?"

A shimmering line of magic connected their palms, a blue as potent as Haruka's eyes and a comparison that Makoto immediately felt cheesy for thinking. "I don't know," Haruka answered simply, to the point as always. "We're supposed to share magic, aren't we? And when I kiss you, you give me magic."

Makoto's cheeks felt hot as he tried not to think about what more skin contact would do for them; what would happen, limbs tangled and desperate kisses and skin on bare skin?

Haruka offered only a knowing look, and Makoto's face burned. "We can try again. Later."

" _Haru_!" the brunet hissed, embarrassed by the shrillness of his own voice.

"Let's go back. I'm hungry." Haruka turned his palm inward, tucking his hand into Makoto's and then tugging him along. "Is there any food left?"

It was like nothing had ever happened. Makoto bit the inside of his cheek, trying to force himself to calm down. No matter what the situation, Haruka always had that irritating ability to appear completely unruffled. "I don't know. Nitori-san took everything back when we finished lunch. You'll have to ask him."

Haruka offered a piercing glance over his shoulder. Makoto tried to ignore the way it made his insides twist uncomfortably with warmth. "Hm."

Makoto attempted a scowl. "You're the hungry one. You have to ask."

They stepped back into the room together. Haruka didn't immediately let go of his hand, touch lingering for a moment longer. Then he pulled away completely, making a beeline for Aiichirou.

Makoto moved to the futons again, intent on finishing his task. Maybe chores would take his mind off of the slight tingling sensation of his magic stretched between them. Maybe.

He certainly didn't miss the way everyone looked up at their arrival, not with the way Nagisa muttered something to Rin that made him roll his eyes with an exaggerated flutter. Makoto bundled the remaining futon in his arms and headed for the door, trying not to think about the way the back of his neck was still warm.

* * *

Leaving the temple was bittersweet.

Well, sort of. On the one hand, the Elements had given them some insight into themselves and their magic; it had allowed them to convene with the spirit, sort of, and it had brought them all a little bit closer. On the other hand, there was still a lingering sense of decay from the forest, one that filled Makoto's stomach with an unwholesome, uncomfortable pit.

It was nice, though, to have another person added to their rag-tag team. Aiichirou and Rin made up the head of their group, a map spread out in Aiichirou's hands and Rin pretending he wasn't getting impatient at the angle with which the other boy held it. Nagisa was next, a pack of supplies slung over his shoulder and another swinging from his free hand. He had insisted on helping carry some of their food, teasing that Haruka would eat it all if they had thought to bring some mackerel. Makoto had privately agreed. Rei was next, another pack of supplies on his back as well. For once, Nagisa had agreed to be serious, and they were walking fairly close together, their heads bent in conversation.

Haruka was, of course, by his side. Since they had kissed at the temple, Haruka hadn't left him for more than a few minutes at a time, their hands constantly brushing accidentally. At least they were finally comfortable enough not to jerk away every time it happened.

Makoto couldn't really say that he would miss it, this place. They had reached the temple, and things had gone, well, wild, and he was ready to get home, to check on his family, to make sure the town was still intact. And then there was the issue of finding some world of the dead and rescuing the spirit from its confines. That would be trouble enough on its own.

"Up there – that's where the crack in the barrier was," Aiichirou spoke up when they neared the edge of the forest. His brows were a little furrowed, expression contemplative. "Which is weird because that rune is all the way on the other side…"

"It's not weird," Rin countered. "Make a crack in one place, cast a spell somewhere else – you're not going to look at the opposite side of a barrier for someone you think snuck in, are you?"

"Well, no," Aiichirou stumbled over his reply, at once sheepish. "I guess not."

The redhead craned his neck to look up at the barrier. Its edges were thicker than the one surrounding Iwatobi; the sky was distorted and purple at the barrier's dome. "The thing won't come back here."

"You don't know that!" Nagisa chimed in, lightly enough to sound as though he was joking. " _You're_ not the monster, Rin-chan!"

A funny expression passed over Rin's face. "Yeah, whatever."

Aiichirou bit his lip, glancing back at Haruka and Makoto. "I just hope no more ancients from the depths get summoned."

"There are nine, aren't there?" Rei adjusted his pack, frowning. "Ancient monsters at the far corners of the world."

"And they _don't_ like to be disturbed," Aiichirou nodded.

Haruka's hand brushed his own. Makoto hooked their fingers. "What does that mean for us?" he asked, not missing the way Rin's eyes dipped when he looked back and the oh-so-slight annoyance that passed over his face. They had started to mend, but maybe that was pushing his luck. Makoto let go just as quickly. "Will some ancient thing come after us now, too?"

It was Rin who answered. "Not likely." He shifted, turning to walk backwards for a few steps. "They don't like to be disturbed, remember? That means they don't get out much. C'mon, Makoto."

Makoto almost smiled. "Okay, but if we had to fight another one, would we be able to fend it off? We've gotta figure out some kind of team strategy, right?"

Rei pulled something folded from his pocket, twisting it between his hands. "I've actually considered that –"

"Aww, really, Rei-chan? You came up with attack plans?" Nagisa grinned. "You're so _thoughtful_."

"It was practical!" Rei sputtered. "I'd prefer we walk into our next fight prepared!"

"Speaking of," to his surprise, it was Haruka who had spoken up, "you should still be practicing."

"Oh – I – I completely forgot!" Makoto looked down at his own hands, trying to concentrate. The magic came much easier this time, smoother and flowing in an obedient trickle. Makoto was so surprised that he lost his concentration, the magic fading away. "It's… different."

"Let me see that!" Nagisa snatched the paper from Rei, unfolding it completely. "What do all these squiggles mean?"

"They aren't squiggles! Those are –"

Makoto cupped his palms together, focusing again. The magic was still responsive, eager to fill his hands and lapping at his fingertips. He shaped it with his thoughts, faltering only when Haruka put a hand on his forearm to guide him around a protruding bunch of tree roots.

"Squiggles, yeah, okay, I get it, are those like, spell lines?"

"They aren't squiggles!"

"So this one's me, right? Ah! Rei-chan, give it back! I was still looking at that!"

The magic formed a ball, hovering just slightly off of his palms. It spun gently, sparks of water dancing along its shimmering surface. How was he doing this? Makoto marveled at how easy it was. Nothing like before, when it had just been himself and Haruka. Nothing like before he had massed a great energy to hurl at the attacking demon.

Was it his friends? Was it their presence that eased this burden? Or was it the thought that protecting them was more important, that the Spirit's might should be used for something else besides mindless conflict? Makoto smiled down at his hands, letting the magic sink back into his skin. It was nothing like he had ever felt before – it was _power_. It was enough to make him a little more confident in his own abilities, enough to give him hope that maybe someday soon he wouldn't be holding them back.

When Haruka took his hand, this time Makoto didn't pull away. They shared a sidelong glance, Haruka's mouth pulling up at the corners just slightly, just enough.

At the very least, Makoto couldn't help but think, the journey back to Iwatobi wouldn't be as uncomfortable as the journey to the temple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you next time! Thanks for sticking with me, guys...


	16. Reflection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a lot of Haruka introspection and memories. Hopefully this will shed some light on how these characters got to where they are now!
> 
> Also note: Guys, I'm not really great at planning things out, so… this chapter took a really weird turn? I'm not sure what I'm doing with my life anymore. Warning: Contains faeries. Of the sinister variety.

As they walked, leaving the temple behind them in slow but steady steps, Haruka spent his time thinking back to the Water Spirit's altar, to its great stone table that had been carved in meticulous runes and shaped by the waves. He had stood before the altar barely a day ago, just thinking, the same as he was doing as they trudged along the path.

The shimmering surface of the altar had played memories for him, one after the other. Haruka had never seen anything so vivid; it was as though he was experiencing these memories for the first time, only with the same clarity that he had now, the same clarity of magic and tension and attraction. There had been a lot of things he had misread or perhaps missed entirely, so focused on the water and on his training, the way it had dulled him so much to the reactions and the intentions and the _feelings_ of those around him. His friends were much easier to read now, now that he knew their ticks and their reactions and their mannerisms, than he had ever realized.

It made him think back, all the way to when he had been a child, wandering the beach and looking for shells. The first time he had met Makoto, the death of Makoto's fisherman friend, the first time he and Rin had tried to poke at the barrier, their first honest fights in the academy, the first time he and Makoto had sat together, looking out at the waves, the time he had almost drowned. Iwatobi was full of firsts. Iwatobi was full of _memories_. Had the Water Spirit been present for all of those moments? Had it seen how they had grown, both physically and emotionally?

Watching them play out over the damp surface had intoxicated his senses for longer than Haruka wanted to admit. He had stared openly, magic shining in the air around him. _Makoto's_ magic in the air. It was foreign but comforting, and Haruka had only thought to leave when his stomach had grumbled an embarrassingly loud reminder that he hadn't eaten since the day before and he still needed to preserve his strength if he hoped to fulfill his role as knight properly.

That was when he had finally torn himself away from his memories and the swirl of heady magic and wandered back to the inner temple, where it was warm and a little musky from all the incense. With just enough magic lingering along his skin from Makoto, he could follow the trail back to his friends. Rin had even nodded at him, which had only served to add to that warm glow somewhere in his chest, fighting off the dark and decay still lingering in his arm.

He was careful to pay attention now, though, to the little ticks he had never noticed. There were things his friends did, things _Makoto_ did that he had never thought to notice; the glances, the fleeting touches, pulling away too quickly, jerking back, the way his cheeks heated so readily, the way he was so easily flustered. Had the signs always been there? Had the mark always been upon them? Or had he simply chosen not to see the fact that they had always had some spark between them, but without fuel, a fire had never sprung forth until now?

It made him wonder if he had always known Makoto would be his companion. At the same time, it made him wonder if that spark had actually been the deciding factor, that if he had noticed that same thing, the same _attraction_ between himself and Rin, would the spirit have chosen differently? It was too late to change anything, but Haruka couldn't keep from considering the thought. Either way, someone would have been left unhappy.

When he took Makoto's hand as they walked the path, lagging several steps behind their friends, the memories trickled back, one at a time and then all together in no particular order. While Makoto practiced his magic, Haruka considered the memories as they occurred to him, all at once, mingling like their friends' bickering voices as they consulted a map borrowed from the temple.

Makoto offered him a smile, taking his hand back, retreating to use both in shaping the magic that ebbed between his palms. If there had been no magic in his touch, Haruka wondered if he would have missed it as much.

 _Yes_ , he answered himself. He would have. He had missed Makoto at the academy, as much as he didn't want to admit it; Makoto had been a steadfast and comforting presence in so many of his memories, and Haruka had never thought it was possible that they would be, well, _together_ , so he had never given it much thought. There was no point in getting his hopes up about something that had never happened, he had thought, even when Makoto's smile had made his stomach twist, even when watching Makoto fade from the top of the beach steps left him feeling… _something_.

If the Water Spirit was trying to tell him something with these memories, Haruka felt it would be beneficial to listen. They had bonded, sort of, and if they could figure out how to make it expand and grow, that could only lead to better things.

* * *

When considering his memories, it was always his first thought: Makoto had not always been afraid of the water.

The first time they had met, the day had been overcast. The skies had been gray and gloomy, and a light drizzle fell, making his skin feel dewy and his steps heavier. The sand crumbled under his feet, and Haruka wandered slowly, letting the waves wash away his footsteps.

In the early hours of the morning, Iwatobi was and always had been quiet and still and peaceful. A few ships always left the harbor, off for an early start at their morning catch. There were a few shells littering the lingering foam from the high tide, and Haruka bent to pick one up. Then he put it to his ear, marveling at the sound of the ocean waves. It wasn't just waves this time, though; there was a voice in his ear, a whisper on the wind, a greeting. Just a passing _hello_ and nothing more.

Haruka pulled the shell from his ear and frowned at it. What tiny creature could live in a shell? He had never heard of such a thing.

"H-hello?" A voice spoke, louder, a little wavering. "Who are you?"

It wasn't the shell but a boy with brown hair and soft eyes a short distance away, twisting his fingers in the same way he did as a teenager, something Haruka now recognized as a nervous habit. Haruka had stared back as a child, quietly confused to see someone else. No one else wandered the beach at these hours.

"Can you talk?" the boy asked, stepping closer. He was barefoot, pants rolled up to his knees and feet peppered with sand. "I'm Makoto."

Haruka looked down at the shell in his hands and then at the other boy. "Haruka."

The brunet's smile was immediate; his mouth split, exposing several toothy gaps. That smile certainly hadn't changed, nor had Makoto's quickness to express it – except, of course, for the adult teeth that had grown to replace the ones lost. "Are you looking for shells?"

When Haruka did not immediately reply, Makoto continued, wandering along the beach with him without breaking stride, "I am. I want to take some for my little brother and sister. They're so small; 'kaa-san says they're too young to come see the water. But… everyone should see the ocean, don't you think? It's so big! And pretty! So I want to bring the ocean to them!"

Haruka held out the shell he had found wordlessly, a silent offer.

Makoto shook his head, but his smile didn't fade. "No, I want to find them myself! We could search together, maybe?"

Haruka nodded. It was a relief not to have to speak; he had never much cared for it.

"Which way did you come from? That way?" Makoto pointed up the hill, and when Haruka nodded again, he turned on heel to face the water. It stretched out into the horizon, an endless expanse dotted with the white swell of waves. "Do you want to go this way? Maybe we can find some pools."

"No," Haruka said, finding his voice. "The best shells stay when the tide goes out."

Waves licked their feet. Makoto picked up one foot at a time from where they were sinking in the sand. Their muddy footprints had already started to fade behind them. "Do you want to look down by the dunes?" he asked instead. "We can walk there."

Haruka licked his lips. They were chapped, tasting vaguely of salt as the sea breeze whipped their hair into their faces.

Makoto's smile was earnest in his anticipation. "Or we could go toward the market?"

"No." He felt almost bad to see the way the brunet's face fell. "I have to go home. Okaa-san is waiting."

The other boy's expression crumbled, but it was only a moment later that he tried for another smile, a little shy. "Do you want to look for shells tomorrow instead?"

Haruka felt a smile curl his own mouth, just slightly. "Tomorrow."

Makoto walked him to the city's steps, waving at him as he ascended. "See you tomorrow, Haru-chan!"

"Don't call me that," Haruka scowled over his shoulder, even as the brunet beamed back at him.

"Okay," Makoto agreed easily enough. "But I'll see you tomorrow? We can meet back here! Oh, and we could go swimming, maybe!"

Haruka paused. "Yes."

Makoto kept waving. "'Bye!"

Something things had never changed.

Then again, Haruka wondered what their lives might have been like if Makoto had never developed that gripping fear of open water.

* * *

Second, typically, were thoughts of magic. Haruka would never forget where he had first discovered it.

It was in a spot that he and Makoto had uncovered while combing the beach for shells, a secret, unknown place that was tucked out of the way. Still young enough to escape the pressing burdens of formal schooling, they had found it one day while looking for shells, as they often did in the early hours of the morning before Haruka's parents settled down with him to start makeshift training and before Makoto left to help his mother tend to their shop. It had been the best part of his day as a child, Haruka thought. Peaceful and easy and the start of a trend that allowed Makoto to fill their silences with chatter. Haruka had never minded. Even as a child, he hadn't had much to say.

They slid under a rock formation and into the cove, usually unable to keep the hem of their pants from dragging in the sandy waters. When the weather was warm, it was a welcome chill against their skin as it dried. When it was colder, they gritted their teeth against it, sitting side by side in the tiny space and sharing body heat in a very innocent way. Not at all like the way they shared heat now, sneaking kisses and the simple brush of skin an electrifying contact.

It was in that same cove that the warmth of magic spread from his chest to his fingertips, igniting in a physical presence over his palms. Perhaps igniting was an inappropriate descriptor; the magic _was_ water, in a different way. He had always been compatible with water. Had this been the spirit's way of reaching out to him as a child? Or was it the other way around; had his compatibility reached for the spirit and drawn _it_ closer instead?

Or did it all come back to Makoto? Ancient texts said that priests were chosen from birth, not that anyone could confirm with the spirit. Maybe the spirit had been intervening for as far back as he could remember.

Makoto had gasped. "What's _that_?"

Haruka had been resting his hand in a small puddle, and he jerked it up, twisting his wrists back and forth. The magic was sea green and surprisingly soft. "I… don't know."

"Haru-chan's magic!" Makoto breathed, reaching to touch it. He decided better of it at the last moment, jerking his hand back sheepishly.

Haruka remembered the uncertainty he had felt, the hesitation to accept this foreign substance. _Was_ this magic? He had seen his parents cast magic before – but simple spells designed to heat the water for his bath or to hasten drying of fresh laundry. His father had coached him in the general form for spell casting, but they had told him, firmly so, that magic was not to be taken lightly, that Haruka was not to use it before he was enrolled in the academy.

He couldn't figure out how to put the light out. "It's not."

"It _is_ ," the brunet insisted. "I've seen magic before! That's what it looks like!" Earnest green eyes bored holes into his hands. Makoto's mouth was open, lips parted as though he had more to say. Haruka was more familiar with the look now. He was more familiar – more _comfortable_ – with the way it drew his eyes, the way he had snuck glances at Makoto's lips. "Right?"

Haruka shook his hands. Water spread over his palms and covered his fingers. When he rubbed his hands together, trying to shake it loose, it felt smooth, like the insides of his favorite shells. "Maybe," he relented.

Makoto reached out to touch again, his expression unsure. Gently, slowly, he drew one finger over the magic, leaving behind a slice of bare skin that was quickly covered by magic again. The brunet made a quiet noise, something Haruka couldn't identify. Surprise, maybe, or wonder. Awe? " _Wow_ ," Makoto breathed, and Haruka thought that maybe he was onto something.

"It tickles," Haruka mumbled, shaking his hands again. It was the same sort of sensation he got when he sat with his legs tucked underneath himself for too long; the pins and needles or a limb that had fallen asleep. He shook harder.

"Stop that!" Makoto scolded, catching one of Haruka's hands with both of his own. The prickling stopped for a moment. Haruka caught himself looking into his friend's face, expression frozen. "See? It's not so bad. Maybe you'll be the priest someday!"

The magic extinguished itself with a sudden flare. Haruka frowned at his hands. Weird. Magic was weird, apparently. He still thought as much, even after working with it for years. "I don't want to do _that_."

"Just think about it, okay, Haru-chan?" Makoto smiled, canting his head to one side. "It's good that you have magic! That means you can start practicing!"

He flexed his fingers slowly. "I guess."

Makoto's smile was like a beacon in the dim light of the cove. "Do you want to swim later?"

His best friend always did know how to take his mind off of things. Haruka half smiled back, making a noise of agreement.

"Great!" Makoto nodded vigorously. "Then you can come to my house for lunch! 'Kaa-san said she's going to try to find something you like even _more_ than mackerel. I told her it was impossible!"

Makoto had always put him first, striving for the happiness of those around him. Haruka realized it now. It was hard not to appreciate it now, looking back the way he was. Maybe that was what the spirit had wanted? Did it want him to realize, to _appreciate_ , the warm feelings he had always harbored for Makoto somewhere deep in his chest?

"Yeah," Haruka had agreed.

Maybe. That seemed a little far-fetched. What did the spirit care if they had liked each other before the choosing? They were destined to be in each other's company now.

Makoto's eyes were as bright as his smile. Magic hadn't bothered him when they were young. Perhaps his fears had stemmed from simple misunderstanding. "D'ya want to have a race?"

"I don't care about races," Haruka said with a shrug. "I just like the water."

"'Kay," Makoto said agreeably. "If that's what Haru-chan wants!"

When Haruka looked back down, his hands were dripping in magic again.

Swimming that afternoon had never come so easily. He sliced through the waves like they weren't even there, propelling himself forward. Makoto lagged behind, laughing encouragements at his back and then meeting him at the edge of the water, holding out a hand to help pull him to standing.

Magic had been a constant presence in his life ever since, almost the same as Makoto.

* * *

The first time he had gone to the magic academy, Haruka had expected to see Makoto.

They had never discussed it, but he had been looking forward to seeing Makoto every day at school for as long as they had been friends. It would be nice to have a friendly face in the class, and not only because he needed someone to remind him to bring his lunch and to make sure he was on time to catch the ferry (though he had definitely needed someone to do that in the first few weeks of class).

The first day of school had denied him that expectation, however, and he hadn't realized just _how much_ he had been looking forward to seeing Makoto until his friend inexplicably hadn't been there.

Haruka had gotten off the ferry and stepped hesitantly into the school, left wondering where Makoto was. Everyone went to the magical academy, didn't they? There were other children in his age group that had already arrived, some standing in small groups and whispering about what magic was like and what they could do with it.

He remembered standing to the side, waiting for Makoto to materialize from somewhere and fill the still air with some aimless chatter about how school was going to be fun and exciting and _really, Haru-chan, don't worry about things so much!_

That moment never came, though, and Haruka stood silently with his new classmates as they separated from the older students. Then they trudged deeper into the academy, taking up residence in a classroom to have their first lesson about magical theory, whatever that meant. Haruka still wasn't sure, considering he had paid so little attention to the first few days of academy study, focused as he was on missing Makoto without really understanding why.

It was during those first few days that he had met Rin, Rei, and Nagisa, and their company was a welcome relief to the awkwardness of being without Makoto.

He remembered meeting Rin clearest of all because even as a child, the redhead had still had that particular boldness, an assertive attitude that bordered on cocky. It was with a defiant tilt of his head and a fiercely determined smile that Matsuoka Rin had introduced himself as Haruka's partner for their first session in magical practice, declaring just as fiercely that he was aiming to be the top of the class.

Haruka remembered mumbling his own name with mixed feelings about this boisterous stranger, so different from Makoto's mild and gentle manner. But Rin's smile and his determination were infectious, and they had eased into friendship and (mostly) friendly competition.

It had taken him almost a week of academy classes to come to the conclusion that Makoto simply _wasn't there_ , and he strove to find his best friend in the time between school and dinner, before his parents came to look for him. He had found Makoto in his parents' bookkeeping shop, sitting on the front steps and looking forlorn.

He remembered worrying about introducing Rin to Makoto. He remembered not knowing what to say to his best friend, standing there with an awkward tilt of his head and silent. He remembered stalling, wondering if Makoto had simply moved on without him.

The way Makoto's face had lit up to see him, though, put all of those discomfiting thoughts to rest. Was it true, then? Had he too always felt invested in Makoto's happiness? Perhaps not to the same extent that Makoto had thrown himself into caring about others, but it was certainly there.

* * *

Introducing Rin to Makoto had been stressful, Haruka remembered. No matter how much he had prepared himself mentally, it was still worrying. What if they didn't like each other?

"Matsuoka Rin!" Rin had said with that same sharp smile. "Haru never shuts up about you!"

Makoto laughed. "Are you sure? Haru doesn't talk so much!"

Had it been a coincidence that Makoto hadn't called him _Haru-chan_ at all for those first few meetings, keeping that nickname their little secret until Rin had fully assimilated into their circle? Looking back, Haruka thought not.

"Well, that's what you're supposed to say when you meet someone, right?" the redhead's grin was still so infectious; Haruka felt himself giving in to a smile as well. "Besides, he doesn't have to say anything for _everyone_ to get that he's mopey all the time at school!"

"Am not," Haruka groused. So much for that.

"Are too," Rin countered. "So how come you're not at the academy?"

Makoto's cheeks had colored, and he had immediately started to twist his hands, looking down at his feet and shuffling them in the dirt. "I, um. I'm just. Not."

Haruka remembered thinking it just wasn't fair that Rin had the mettle to ask the questions he didn't. He had been meaning to ask Makoto that since school had begun, but Makoto had never brought it up himself, and Haruka hadn't wanted to pry. Rin, apparently, cared little for those boundaries – and he still didn't, not really.

"Weird," Rin said, locking his hands behind his head. "Are you not good at magic?"

"No," Makoto had jumped on that quickly, too quickly. Then he had given that sort of self-deprecating laugh that Haruka knew all too well. "Not at all!"

The redhead shrugged. "Whatever. At least you have less homework. You… _can_ swim at least, right?"

"O-of course!" Makoto kept twisting his hands. "I swim with Haru all the time."

For an instant, there had been a spark of competitiveness in Rin's eyes and in his posture, something that Haruka recognized looking back that he never would have seen through the eyes of a child. It was gone as quickly as it had come.

"I want to swim, too!" Rin announced, relaxed again. "Tomorrow! We can bring glasses and the shrimp."

"Who?" Makoto echoed, looking to Haruka for answers. He had looked almost… well, lonely for having to ask.

"New friends," Haruka had answered in his usual, dismissive way and failing to notice the way that Makoto looked a little unsatisfied with that reply. "You'll see."

"Tomorrow," Rin said again, firmly. "Meet here, by the steps? I gotta go home – my sister's waiting."

The brunet smiled. "See you tomorrow," he said with a wave. "Do you want to come to my house for dinner, Haru-chan?" Makoto asked as soon as Rin was out of earshot. "'Kaa-san wants to ask you about training!"

Haruka nodded. They had left the shore side by side, walking home together. Some things really _hadn't_ changed.

* * *

The day passed quickly. So absorbed in his thoughts, Haruka had hardly noticed when they had begun to slow. Aiichirou was the first to suggest they set up camp after consulting their map again. Makoto was quick to agree, casting a quick glance over his shoulder at the way they had come. They still hadn't crossed the threshold of the temple's barrier, so camp would be safe.

When they lay under the stars that night, staring up at the vast expanse of the sky, Makoto's magic settled over them like an extra blanket. It was thick and heavy, but it was not unwelcome; Haruka took in a deep breath, clasping his hands over his navel and trying not to think too hard about what had happened the last time they lay together like this, side by side and in darkness. Haruka tried also not to think about if that magic was spread over the rest of their companions, too.

In the darkness, there was relative silence. Everyone had laid out a sleeping mat and blankets and had tried to make the best of things. Then, after a bout of stillness, there was shuffling, a rustling, and the crackling of their small fire as it burned down to embers.

"I can't get comfortable," Nagisa's voice cut through the darkness, even though he barely spoke above a whisper. "Rei-chan?"

"Go to sleep," Rei's response came, tired and impatient but gently. "Stop fidgeting."

There was more rustling of blankets. Haruka propped himself up on one elbow to see. The flickering embers didn't provide him with enough light, but the inhuman clarity of his vision hadn't abated even though his magic was depleted. Nagisa was sprawled out on his stomach, head buried in his arms.

"It's still not comfy," he complained, rolling onto his side.

Haruka put his head back down, the beginnings of a smile on his lips. Makoto, who was yawning next to him, was smiling as well.

"Just try," Rei scolded. "You're keeping everyone up."

"Sorry, everyone," Nagisa said, still hardly above a whisper. "I'll _try_."

When silence finally fell, the quiet hush and the gentle crackling of the fire was enough to lull Haruka into sleep. He awoke some time later, startled into alertness by something – a dream, maybe, or a rustling in the trees?

It seemed to be neither of those things. Unsettled, Haruka laid his head back down.

* * *

 

"Hey. Haru. Haru?"

Haruka blinked away his thoughts. The morning had been short; they had dwelled in their makeshift camp just long enough to splash water on their faces and eat a meager breakfast. Then, Haruka had returned to his thoughts. Crossing the barrier lines had been enough to take him away from the confines of his own mind only briefly; the memories were just as enthralling on the second day, and he hated to be torn away from them. Makoto squeezed his hand, gently, like he could tell even without Haruka voicing that thought.

"You should have something to drink," Makoto said, offering him one of their canteens. "You need to stay hydrated."

Was that ironic because they were Water acolytes? Haruka couldn't tell. It didn't really matter; he accepted the canteen and took a sip, just enough to wet his mouth. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware of water, in the same vague way that he was aware of the steady rise and fall of his own chest as he breathed. There was a stream not too far from them with water probably clear enough to drink, fresh and crisp from the nearby mountains.

"You've been awfully quiet," Makoto observed, taking the canteen back and then putting it away in the pack slung over his shoulder. Fortunately, their spells had allowed them to minimize the weight again, though any burden on the road was heavy after some time. "Is anything wrong?"

Haruka's eyes slid sideways. He couldn't really gauge how much time had passed, and it didn't really matter because as soon as this conversation was over, he was going to go back to analyzing whatever thoughts the Water Spirit thought pertinent to bring to his mind.

"It's nothing," he said instead with a slight shrug.

The others had fallen quiet. They had been walking for long enough that conversation had died down; he and Makoto had gone through the same sort of cyclical phases on their way from Iwatobi to the temple in the first place, and at first, it had been a little uncomfortable. Now, once Makoto had become absorbed in trying to work with the ample magic he had contained somewhere in and around his person, it was much more relaxed. Haruka silently appreciated the lack of tension that came along with Makoto's magic being otherwise occupied.

Makoto half smiled. Haruka couldn't tell if it was supposed to express exasperation or not. For all his thoughts, Makoto could still be difficult to read. "Whatever Haru-chan says."

There was a pervasive bout of silence. Makoto offered nothing else, and everyone else continued to walk on as though they hadn't heard any of that exchange. The sound of their trudging footsteps filled the air instead, and the whisper of a cool breeze winding through the bushes rustled leaves ahead of them.

Haruka had settled back into his thoughts – or, he had started to, when Aiichirou came to an abrupt stop.

Rin, who had been walking alongside him, trailed a few steps more before turning. "Something up?"

Aiichirou set his mouth in a thin line. "I'm not sure. I have a bad feeling."

A thick blanket of magic spread over the path they had been walking, oozing through the trees. It was some mixture of both Rei and Rin's; Makoto squinted, trying to add his own to the mix. After a moment of pregnant silence, they withdrew. Makoto did the same, though with much added difficulty. Haruka wasn't sure how much good that had done. If there _was_ something lurking, surely creatures would come running after that brief display?

"I don't sense anything," Rin said with a shrug. "You sure you feel something?"

Aiichirou gave a hesitant smile. "No… it was probably nothing."

"Guys," Nagisa cut in, "I think you're right – look. Something's there."

Tiny pinpricks of yellow light shone through one of the bushes. Despite the light of the afternoon, they glowed as if beacons in darkness.

"Doesn't that look like…?" Makoto trailed off, voice raising slightly in panic. Haruka could understand how they might appear like those glowing lights in the forest before the Elements, before they had both nearly been crushed by an ancient creature and enormous tsunami. They weren't, however, and while it was good to rule out something that disastrous from happening again, it was _not_ good that he had no idea what it actually was just by looking.

"It's not," Haruka spoke over him, frowning at the light. "It's not a summon."

Makoto breathed out a soft sigh. "You're sure?"

Rin, with so much attitude in his steps that Haruka was reminded of their early academy days, strode over to the bush and flattened it with his heel. Then he reached down, picking up a creature that resembled a large rat. Its eyes were still glowing yellow, and its teeth were sharp and glistening.

"What the hell's this?" he asked, shaking it slightly. The creature didn't move, allowing Rin to shake it without much of a reaction.

Aiichirou frowned at it. "I don't know… Creatures that small usually don't come out without something else to protect them during the day. But… sometimes the larger beasts keep pets…"

There was another rustling in the trees, a louder sound this time. The group condensed, stepping toward each other in a scrambling flurry. Makoto was holding tightly to his hand. Haruka wondered what he could sense that the rest of them perhaps couldn't.

"I'm getting rid of it." Rin drew his arm back, flinging the creature through the trees and dusting his hands off. A flicker of magic followed after the thing, either chasing it away or killing it, Haruka couldn't be sure.

"It isn't nice to throw away meals, you know," a voice accompanied the next rustling in the trees. Silky and confident and vaguely but adamantly familiar. Haruka's stomach dropped. They weren't ready to face another creature like the demon, not so soon. "I could have made something out of that."

Rin froze in place. In the tree nearest his back, a long, snakelike tail descended, coiling around the trunk.

"Pity, too, that you've wandered into Dark territory," the voice continued blithely. The snake tail ended abruptly, merging seamlessly with what looked like a human torso. The head and shoulders of a man emerged from the branches, all sandy hair and a wicked smile. That face was definitely familiar. "Shouldn't a temple _acolyte_ know better?"

Aiichirou's cheeks colored, but he looked more indignant than he did nervous. He clutched the staff he had been carrying as a weapon a little tighter without quite brandishing it. "Dark territory isn't for at least a full day's walk south," he shook his head. "You're mistaken."

"Ah, ah, I think _you_ are mistaken," the creature said, a long tongue flicking between thin lips. "Territory wars and misleading spells and all that. Don't you know better than to trust the path?"

All at once, the air around them shimmered. Trees cracked long and jagged gashes down the middle of their trunks. The green leaves underfoot browned and curled. The dirt path was no longer neat and straight but a brief segment of crudely packed earth. The stranger moved fluidly from the tree to the ground, snake tail splitting off into two legs with a glimmer of magic. He hit the ground with bare feet, indifferent to the dead branches and leaves that crunched upon contact.

"Besides," the man said, gaze lingering on Makoto, "you can't expect to bring a beacon into the darkness and have no one take notice."

Makoto shrunk back, obviously uneasy with the eyes on him. Haruka did wonder what he meant, though; Makoto had been doing a much better job of keeping his energy contained.

Everyone else seemed startled that the scenery had so abruptly changed. Haruka tried to keep the shock from his face as well, staring hard at the creature. What kind of power did this new intruder have? Had they walked into a trap? It seemed poorly laid if it was only one monster against all of them, even if they were only human.

"What do you want?" Rin cut in, stepping directly into the creature's line of sight. "If you're just here to talk nonsense, you might as well clear off. You're obviously outnumbered."

The creature's eyes slid back to Rin, and he considered the redhead with a smile. "Obviously!" He peered around Rin. "But you remember me, don't you? I'm no _stranger_."

Haruka narrowed his eyes. Makoto was still shrinking back, less obviously now, but his shoulders were tense, and his hands were clammy. "You tried tracking us."

The stranger waved his hand. "I was just curious! It's not every day that we see a priest wandering around." He smiled, and it was charming in a strange, unfamiliar way. "Besides, it didn't _hurt_ , did it?"

Makoto seemed to realize he was being addressed, but all he offered was a slightly pinched frown and another awkward shuffle of his feet.

"Ah, well. You've made me lose my lunch," the creature lamented. "But I _do_ hope you remember me. It wasn't too long ago, was it? Okayama isn't that far if you take the right paths."

Rin turned to grace them with a twisted frown. "What the hell's he talking about?"

The stranger stepped closer, smiling. It was a more human grin, and Makoto seemed to realize who it was almost immediately if the creeping flush in his cheeks was any indication. Haruka remembered, too, the man who had lounged outside the inn. If that man had been a creature in disguise, how many more had there been, just lurking in Okayama alleyways?

"Okayama's barriers aren't nearly as strong as they used to be," the man said, holding out a hand to examine his own fingers. "And the guards have gotten sloppy. But don't pay any mind; I was only looking for a good time. No harm done, was there?"

Rin gave a halting jerk of both of his hands. " _What_ is he talking about?"

Understanding was blossoming over Nagisa's face, at least. He turned to look at Makoto over his shoulder with his mouth puckered into a small _oh_ , as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"So the temple's not far from here, and I thought, well, dark territory's expanded over these past few years; it might be worth checking out. And look! It was!" the brunet continued, speaking over Rin but not without flashing another grin in his direction. "And the cute little temple boy doesn't even know about the spells in the forest. It must be my lucky day."

"Did you _want_ something?" Aiichirou spoke up, voice wavering with slight embarrassment.

"Well, no," the stranger said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm surprised you let me get this far, though."

There was a rustling in the bushes again, the trees surrounding them groaning in protest. This time, it was more than just a single pair of eyes peeking from around the surrounding trunks; Haruka wished he had more magic with which to sense, for it seemed as though they were completely surrounded.

"I thought you said this path was safe," Rin said under his breath, looking to Aiichirou.

"I – I thought it was!" Aiichirou said, shaking his head and gripping his weapon a little tighter. "The forests around the temple have always been safe!"

Rei gave an awkward twist of his mouth, almost a frown. "Apparently not."

They closed ranks, stepping closer to each other.

The stranger waved one finger in the air, still smiling. "Not always," he said, high and mocking. "But you humans always think you know best."

Makoto's hands both closed around one of Haruka's; the brunet's eyes were wide. The eyes in the trees and bushes were getting closer, revealing the bodies to whom they belonged. A strange assortment of creatures was emerging from the edges of the path. Each one was more outlandish in appearance than the last. What _were_ these things? Haruka recognized a few from pictures in textbooks, but others appeared essentially human.

"The king will have to decide your fate now," the stranger tilted his head, putting one finger to his mouth. " _Oh_.We haven't had this much fun in ages."

A creature stepped up to them, mouth split into an inhuman smile. A black tongue, coupled with oddly clear teeth, made its mouth look poisonous. There would be no fight, not here. Aiichirou held tightly to his staff regardless, expression alarmed. The only one who did not seem to be ruffled was Nagisa, who was staring openly at the creatures as they appeared.

"So?" the man asked, cheerful. "What'll it be? Humans in the Night Court?"

Color drained from Aiichirou's face. "The… Night Court?"

Rei, too, looked alarmed. " _What_?"

"Of course!" the strange creature said, reaching for them. The tips of his fingers ended in tiny snakes now, each one hissing in harmony. "Not that you've a choice."

The blunt edge of a weapon jammed into his back. Haruka tried to turn to see who – or what, rather – was there, but another sharp jab made him think better of it.

"Now, follow me," he said, mouth splitting again into a too-wide smile, like his jaw had unhinged, the way a snake's did before it devoured prey. "And we'll have some fun…"

* * *

Omake: "Just Squiddy."

After a long day of travel, they lay together under the stars, sleeping mats rolled out and placed strategically around the fire so that everyone would stay warm. It was early enough that there were still flames flickering in the pit's hearth. Everyone was quiet. Aiichirou had been the one to suggest that they settle in for the night, and Makoto had been the first to readily agree; everyone else grumbled something about being tired and setting up camp, and that was all there was to it. Most of the others were already asleep, exhausted from the days of travel over rough roads and rougher terrain.

They had spent the day squabbling and chattering and pretending that they had some idea of what they were doing. As he usually did, Rei thought back to the events of the day, then of the week, as he tried to relax, hands clasped over his navel and blanket pulled up to his chin. Then, as he also usually did, Rei tried furiously not to think about all the embarrassing things that he had ever done.

It was impossible. Fresh in his mind were two words: _just squiddy_.

Rei gritted his teeth. What had he done? How could he have stooped so low, to say something so _disastrously_ un-beautiful? They never left him alone. They haunted the peaceful moments between awake and asleep that he wanted to use for quiet introspection. He could see the words as clearly as if someone had written them on the backs of his eyelids.

Prickly embarrassment twisted his stomach. The pins and needles of hot shame passed over his shoulders. The words mocked him with the clarity of his memory. _Just squiddy_. An atrocious combination. An utter _mistake_.

It was horrible. Awful. The most embarrassing words to ever leave his mouth (or at least, the most recent that he could remember). Rei grimaced in the darkness, scrubbing one of his hands over his face and pressing the heel of his palm against one cheek. _Just squiddy_.

 _Don't think about it_ , he told himself firmly. _Forget it._

 _But how could you say it¸_ he countered that thought just as determinedly. _Stupid, stupid, stupid –_

"Rei-chan," Nagisa spoke up from the sleeping mat next to him, amused. "You're doing it again."

"Doing what?" Rei repeated.

"Thinking out loud."

Rei felt the color drain from his face. Good thing it was dark.

"G'night, Rei-chan," Nagisa said quietly, still amused.

"Good… night, Nagisa-kun," Rei muttered in response.

When he closed his eyes, the whole process started over again. This time, though, Rei was careful to make sure he didn't say anything else out loud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me, ya'll! Sorry the end of this chapter is such a cop-out...


	17. Leak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler alert: Welcome to the cast, Sousuke! /throws more confetti
> 
> I still haven’t finished season 2 (yikes). Sorry if he’s out of character… but I’m just not that familiar with him yet! There are OCs here, but mostly because I needed some sinister characters to mess around with, and from where I’m sitting, no one in Free quite fits the bill. 
> 
> Also, sorry for being a huge loser and not updating on a regular schedule (or, ever). Have this almost-10k chapter.
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm so sick of looking at this chapter that I didn't proofread. Let me know if you notice anything wonky!

As terrifying as it was to be surrounded by creatures the likes of which they had never seen, Makoto could not help but marvel at the strange and luscious scenery.  The longer they walked, the more unusual everything seemed to become.  The trees were no longer dead and cracked but fantastical colors that Makoto had never thought possible; they passed a cluster of trees that were a delicate silver, their leaves tipped in purple.  From the branches of another hung fruit so dark in color that it was almost black, though those rotting on the ground belied soft, blue flesh.  The ground swelled deep and earthy violet, and greenery blossomed thick and full.  It was very unlike the mountain pass they had been viewing previously.    

And although there were eyes in the trees of various colors, no frightening creatures leapt from hiding to gnaw at their ankles as they passed.  It would have been a relief had they not been surrounded by beings that were frightening enough in their own rights. 

The man from town, the one who had seemed so human and unassuming (aside from that not-so-subtle proposition), led the pack.  He walked with the confidence of someone who knew the area well, sparing only a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure the rest of them were following.  It wasn’t as though they had a choice.    

“Rumor is you all were wrapped up in that big summon the other day.  _Nasty_ business, wasn’t it?” the stranger asked, almost gleeful despite his words.  “Must’a gotten on _someone’s_ bad side.”

No one answered.  The man didn’t seem to mind; they skirted another patch of trees, falling into step on what seemed to be a beaten path.  Makoto was still clutching tightly to Haruka’s hand.  His knight gave no overt reaction although Makoto was sure he had to be digging half-moons into the other boy’s skin with the force of his grip. 

At the end of the path, the trees parted seamlessly, bending at awkward angles to form an entryway.  Beyond that, bright baubles floated above their heads.  They cast a green light along the path, adding a sickly glow.

Someone else was waiting under the far trees.  A man, from the silhouette, but with so many strange creatures around, Makoto couldn’t be sure. 

“What do you think you’re doing?”  The voice was flat, disinterested. 

Their impromptu leader stopped short.  “Aw, c’mon,” he wheedled, “you don’t think it’ll be fun?”

Makoto tried to sneak a glance over his shoulder at the way they had come.  The trees were closing in on the path, rustling leaves and creaking wood convening where they had been standing only moments before.  So much for a quick escape.  He swallowed hard. 

Haruka’s expression was unreadable, but if there was one person in their group who was openly wearing his emotions, it was Rin.  Rin looked absolutely _murderous_ , as though nothing could have put a bigger cramp in his day.  The creature with clear teeth seemed to know it, too; it was inching closer, lips drawn back in what was probably a snarl.  It was hard to tell. 

“Fun?” the stranger parroted.  “Huh.  You sure have a peculiar way of doing things, Dion.”

Dion – first name?  Last?  Did it matter, with creatures like these? – crept closer, his face slightly upturned.  The green light over his skin gave him a sickly pallor.  It also made obvious the scales that were littered along the underside of his jaw as they glinted in the light.  The passing thought of sharp fangs and a forked tongue, venom and a bite so fast they couldn’t anticipate it made a quick shudder pass through his body.

The other man seemed to be counting them.  “Six?  You can’t possibly expect to keep this many all at once, you know.”

“Spoilsport!” Dion said with another one of those too-wide smiles.  “You never let me have my way.” 

A blanket of leaves parted like curtains.  Beyond this time was a clearing, a circular space littered with groups of strange creatures that were humanoid and animal alike.  Makoto swallowed hard again, trying to swallow the bundle of nerves clawing its way up his throat. 

“Take those two?” Dion gestured to Rin, who had yet to soften his expression, and Rei, who had set his mouth in a thin, worried line. 

The one with clear teeth was quick to obey.  It brandished a weapon, something like a mace but with spikes that seemed precariously long.  Only when one clipped Rin in the arm did the redhead’s expression shift, though his scowl was just as potent.  The scratch the man’s weapon left behind on Rin’s arm strangely failed to bleed; Makoto wondered if it was even real.  Rei and Rin were marched some distance away before the creature looked back.   

Dion was examining Aiichirou with a darkly contemplative expression.  “Take him next.  I never much liked the temple acolytes.”

One of the creatures from behind them, this one in the form of a beautiful woman who held no obvious weapon, took hold of Aiichirou with a delicate grip around his upper arm and pulled him with her back into the trees.

That left himself, Haruka, and Nagisa.  No one spoke for a long moment as Dion’s eyes flickered between them each in turn. 

“We don’t often get humans in the court,” he said finally, as though means of explanation.  “But I wouldn’t worry _too_ much.  The ones who would have more fun taking you apart aren’t here right now, _un_ fortunately.”  Dion clicked his tongue against his teeth and shrugged.  “But you’re in luck!  The _king_ is fond of games.”

Games?  What was that supposed to mean?  Makoto’s head spun.  It sounded to him like they were going to be put on a spinning wheel while demons threw knives at them for target practice.  The games they played as children, marbles and rocks and running wild on the outskirts of town or along the edge of the barrier, probably held no candle to whatever games faeries played. 

He wasn’t left to linger too long.  “Will you keep him for me?” Dion said to the stranger lingering by the entryway, nodding at Nagisa.  “I like his eyes.”

When the man stepped into the light, Makoto realized he was vaguely familiar, too – the dark-haired one Dion had crossed the street to speak to in Okayama, the one he hadn’t spared a second glance after Haruka had returned.  If – _when_ they got out of here, Makoto resolved to pay more attention to who the hell was talking to them. 

“And you two,” Doin said, almost a purr.  His expression had crossed into sultry, half-lidded eyes and a smile that was ready to unhinge and devour them whole.  “You follow me.”

They crossed the clearing.  Makoto could feel his heart practically beating its way out of his chest.  He imagined some of the creatures could hear it, too, for a few leered at them as they passed.  Appearing at the end of the gloom was a raised dais, atop which sat two ornate chairs and a table.  The table held a half-finished game of what might have been shogi.  Did demons play human games?  Was this what Dion had meant?  Makoto wasn’t sure he knew all the rules of shogi, let alone enough to play against an ageless creature. 

The thing that sat in one of the chairs was ghostly pale.  Its eyes were cold and black, and it wore a cloak made entirely of thorns.  When it breathed in, deep and slow and almost tasting the air, Makoto could feel something pulling at the fringe of his magic, something _gnawing_ , chewing.  It was an uncomfortable sensation.   

“You found the priest,” the thing said, its voice indicative of no emotion or gender.  “I haven’t tasted magic this clean in years.” 

Dion did not bow, as Makoto had half-expected.  Instead, he smiled even wider.  “Isn’t it?  I thought you might enjoy him.”  

The king – if it was the king? – gazed down at them impassively.  “You were correct.  Three days should be sufficient.” 

“Mm, if that’s what you think.”  Dion took a step back, and this time he did bow, a sort of half-bend from the waist.  He settled next to Haruka, whose expression was as impassive as the creature before them. 

“Come here, priest,” the creature said softly.  It was with an air of someone who was used to being obeyed, and Makoto sucked in a quick breath before acquiescing.  It was almost painful to let go of the death grip he had on Haruka’s hand.  “Answer me this.  Tell me – what is no sooner spoken than broken?”

A riddle?  Oh.  Of course.  The Fair Folk did like their riddles. 

Makoto opened his mouth, only to snap it shut again.  No sooner spoken than broken…  As the moments ticked by, with the clearing hushed and only the rustle of the trees around them, it seemed more obvious.  Any word he could come up with to describe the quiet – no sooner could he say the word aloud than it would be broken.  At least one possibility had to be silence.  It made sense.  But if he was wrong, would something bad happen to them?  Or to their friends?  It took a few long seconds to gather the nerve to speak, but when he finally muttered the answer, eyes downcast, it felt like an eternity had passed. 

The king’s mouth split into a grin so harrowing it made the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand up.  “Yes.  Good.  Now – what is ever running away and afar, yet never departs from one place?” 

The confusion had to be showing on his face.  Makoto worried his lower lip between his teeth.  _They_ seemed to be running away and afar but never getting anywhere, but that couldn’t be the answer. 

As children, they had teased each other endlessly with nonsensical riddles about the water and the ocean and rivers and lakes and streams, and this sounded similar.  A river wandered near and far without ever leaving one place.  Lakes didn’t move, and the ocean couldn’t really _wander_ , per se.  So he gave the answer, trying to pretend the king’s suddenly delirious expression didn’t bother him at all.  He didn’t nearly have Haruka’s control, though, so the corners of his mouth were almost trembling. 

“Excellent.  Now – in three days’ time, I will have devoured your entire being if you cannot best me.  It is not impossible.  I am not without reason.”  A pause, and the creature spread its arms wide, arms so thin they appeared skeletal.  “If, in this time, you can best me at my game, I will release you and your…”  The thing paused.  “ _Compatriots_.  If, however, you fail…” 

The king smiled, revealing a mouthful of jagged edges and odd angles.

Makoto didn’t need to be told what that meant.         

* * *

 

By the time he was allowed to turn away from the king, darkness had fallen over their clearing, and myriad colors bobbed above their heads as tiny, flickering lights appeared from the gloom. 

A few of the lights weren’t lights at all but tiny faeries, their wings buzzing and tiny hands grabbing at their hair.  Alarmingly, everything seemed to have sharp teeth, even the creatures that seemed otherwise harmless.  A faerie had nested on his shoulder for a moment, her small body buzzing and voice uncharacteristically gravelly, even if she spoke no words Makoto could understand.  When he had tried to look more closely, he had realized her mouth was just as sharp, and that her teeth were dangerously close to his ear. 

The king had amused himself with asking Makoto riddles and questions for what felt like hours.  Makoto couldn’t be sure he had answered them all correctly, but he had answered them all the same.  The brunet’s tongue felt heavy in his mouth, and though his throat was dry, he determinedly refused the offered wine.  His mother had told him when he was young – _never eat or drink anything from the Folk_.  It held power over humans somehow, she said.  Faeries liked to bend others to their will, and that was all-too-easy when humans readily offered themselves. 

With all the magic in the air, it was difficult to keep track of everyone else.  Haruka’s presence hadn’t faded, but several of the others’ had, at one point or another.  There were too many magical beings crowding the surrounding area; Makoto could barely keep his senses in check.  It had become easier over the course of his and the king’s riddling games, if only because it seemed the king was _feeding_ on his energy, and with some of his magic gone, the remainder was easier to manipulate.   

The longer they sat, the more color rose in those pale cheeks.  Dark eyes were no longer dull but bright and alert.  Even the king’s wrists looked fleshier.  Makoto himself felt stiff from sitting in one position for so long and so tensed.

Without warning, the king turned back to his table of potentially shogi.  Makoto had delivered the answer to another riddle, his voice shaking.  Apparently that had been enough of a prompt.  Had he given the wrong answer?  Was there something he was missing?  Had they already started whatever game they were supposed to be playing, or was that still impending?

A hand brushed the small of his back, and Makoto jumped, scrambling to turn around. 

“Now, now,” Dion said with another of those snakelike grins.  “Are you sure you won’t eat?”

A small goblin had been summoned to the dais at one point to serve as a table, and upon its back was a pewter goblet and plate.  It was a delicate balance.  Makoto was sure this had to be some kind of punishment.  The goblet had spilled twice already from the uneven surface, and both times, the king had merely waved for someone to retrieve and refill it.  Honey cakes, the king had called them, decorated the plate.  He had eaten one without breaking eye contact, and it was not as suggestive as it was frightening.  Makoto could imagine the thing eating his arm with that same nonchalance. 

“N-no, I’m… I’m not hungry,” Makoto lied, hoping his stomach didn’t give him away.  He would hold out for as long as possible.  Three days was too long to go without water, but he could probably pull water from the air if they were left alone long enough. 

The king, with his back to them, picked up one of the chess pieces delicately and then slammed it back to the table with force. 

Dion made to turn away, but Makoto found a spark of courage and latched onto his sleeve.  “Where are my friends?” he asked, trying with all his might to sound authoritative instead of terrified.  “What have you done with them?”

The other man clocked a finger under his chin, tipping his head back.  “My, I _do_ like that, priest.” 

Makoto jerked back with a half-embarrassed scowl. 

“If you eat, I could take you to them,” he offered, smile alluring this time.  “Just a bite?  It won’t hurt you.  I _promise_.”

 _Faeries couldn’t lie._   He had repeated it to himself over and over.  The king meant what he said; Makoto only needed to figure out what game they were playing and how to win it.  That, or they needed to gather their forces and escape, which seemed a little more likely given he had no idea the game to which the king was referring.  But that meant Dion wasn’t lying, either.  The cakes wouldn’t hurt him.  It was what came after that would probably hurt, when he was fuzzy-headed and obedient. 

Makoto eyed the cakes warily.  They seemed innocent enough, but they were probably mushrooms or tree bark or something equally unappetizing that had merely been magicked to _look_ like cakes.  His stomach twisted.

“You can always see them later.”  There was almost a taunt in those words.  “To think, you would turn down the king’s hospitality?”   

The flush that rose in his cheeks this time wasn’t due to embarrassment as much as it was frustration. 

Dion reached to pluck one of the treats from the table, popping it into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully.  “It _is_ interesting.  I don’t think I’ve seen the king in such a good mood in ages.” 

This was a good mood?  Makoto set his mouth in a thin line.

“Oh, don’t make that face.  We’ll find you someone familiar,” the creature said, brushing the back of his hand against Makoto’s cheek.  The brunet drew back sharply, and Dion didn’t follow, withdrawing his hand and then turning on heel.

A few steps behind them but seated at a roughly hewn wooden table was Haruka.  His expression was stony, and Makoto immediately went to his side, reaching with trembling hands to latch onto his arm.  Haruka’s expression softened, just slightly.  As soon as their hands were linked, the trickle of magic between them started anew, and it was no small comfort.

Several other tables were occupied by strange and unusual creatures.  Dion moved between them as though he was floating, or perhaps as though he was not a solid form but _fluid_ instead was a better descriptor.  Makoto spared his knight a glance, but Haruka’s face had returned to stone. 

If he hadn’t been convinced that Dion would hear them, he would have tried to whisper.  _What are we going to do_?

* * *

 

Dion escorted them to a branching clearing, where Aiichirou stood with the willowy woman who had brought him there.  She was cupping his cheeks with both hands, peering so deeply into the boy’s eyes that Makoto had no idea what she might be contemplating.

“Oh, Dion,” she spoke, her voice high and clear.  “Humans are of such a strange nature, aren’t they?”

She and Dion exchanged secret smiles and a quick chuckle, as though humans really were the strange ones.  Makoto swallowed hard, trying to ignore the lump in his throat and that bundle of nerves twisting anxiously in his gut. 

The woman withdrew her hands from Aiichirou, and the boy slumped suddenly.  Unsupported, his legs gave out, and he crumpled to the ground. 

“Hm.”  She smiled, and it was a soft, beautiful expression.  “I believe I am finished.”

Dion made a lofty gesture and lifted one shoulder in a shrug.  “Wait here. I’m sure everyone else isn’t far.”

The woman left with Dion, wrapping her hands around one of his arms.  They bent together to whisper, glancing back at the three of them standing in the small clearing that was little more than a break in the expanse of trees.  Then they smiled again and parted at the edge of the revelry.

As soon as they were gone, Makoto went to Aiichirou’s side and crouched next to him.  He pressed the palm of his hand against the boy’s forehead, worried.  “Nitori-san?  Are you alright?”

Although sweat was beading along Aiichirou’s temple, his skin was cold.  “I – I think?”

Haruka took up post at the clearing’s entrance, arms crossed over his chest.  “We need a plan,” he said shortly.  “This is dangerous.”

Aiichirou looked stricken.  “I had no idea this – I didn’t know, I mean, about the forest.  We haven’t had any contact with faeries in…” he trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished.

“Can you stand?” Makoto asked, offering his hand.  “Let me help you.”

The other boy shook his head.  “I’m… fine.  Do you know where anyone else went?”

Both he and Haruka were quiet for a long moment.  Aiichirou seemed to understand; he bowed his head, teeth gritted. 

When Dion did not immediately return, Makoto sat down in the dirt next to Aiichirou, and it wasn’t long before Haruka joined them.  They sat in a lopsided circle, careful to keep their eyes out.  Faeries seemed to require neither sleep nor rest of any kind.  The revelry went on into the night, if it even was night, creatures appearing from the gloom and joining rough tables.  No one approached them for some time, however, and it was getting more and more difficult to stay awake. 

Makoto’s eyes were starting to sting with tiredness.  There was no way to tell how much time had passed, and he tried to focus his attention by reeling in as much of his magic as possible, containing it tightly within his chest.  The edges of his senses felt limp and tattered.  It was the strangest sensation.

They had been sitting in silence for who knew how long before footsteps approached.  This time, it was not a strange and mysterious creature but a man, barely older in appearance than they were.  He was tall – perhaps it seemed particularly so because they were all seated – but his eyes weren’t malicious.

The man leaned in, resting one hand against a nearby tree to balance.  “Nitori.”

Aiichirou gave a start, looking up with wide eyes.  “What – who –?”

He shook his head, putting a finger to his lips.  “I have a plan.”

“H-how?” Aiichirou floundered for words.  “Everyone thought you were…”

“Priest,” the man continued without breaking stride, “be ready.  And stay alert – if she drains you, you’re finished.  She’ll keep you as a pet and then kill everyone else.”

Makoto’s skin prickled.  _She_? 

“ _Stay focused_ ,” he hissed, eyes sharp.  An instant later, he was gone, swept into the festive throng. 

Aiichirou’s eyebrows had drawn down in confusion, but he leaned his head in to whisper to them regardless.  “That – he’s from the temple?  I thought…”  He shook his head, as though to gather his thoughts.  “ _Everyone_ thought he was dead… He’s been missing.”  And then, almost as an afterthought, “For a long time.”

Makoto’s skin prickled again, but this time it was with worry.  What if it was someone disguising themselves to look like a former temple acolyte, someone who knew enough to play with their hopes before crushing them underfoot?  He wouldn’t put it past a group of unsavory faeries.  But the hope that they had an ally here, of all places, bloomed warm in his chest.

With so many energies nearby, he had a hard time picking out the stranger’s.  His control wasn’t nearly good enough to sift through the many foreign presences to find one that was only vaguely familiar.  After a moment, Makoto gave up, pulling his magic back into himself and feeling his fingertips buzz with electricity on contact. 

“Yamazaki-senpai, I think,” Aiichirou offered quietly.  “But I could be wrong.”

Makoto hoped dearly that he wasn’t.  Whoever Yamazaki really was, whether he truly was as human as he seemed, they needed any semblance of a plan.  This was a stretch, but it was better than nothing (if only marginally).

He reached for Haruka out of habit or out of comfort.  The steady weight of Haruka’s hand in his own, clammy as it was, did make him feel more at ease.  With a shaky sigh, Makoto resigned himself to wait and watch and listen for any sign of a stranger who might or might not help them, or, perhaps better, any sign of their missing friends. 

* * *

 

It was some time later that things seemed to quiet down. 

There were fewer creatures milling about by then, and although the lights had yet to dim (which made it inestimably difficult to tell the passing of time, Makoto thought), it seemed to be either very late or very early.  The quiet did not set any of them at ease, however.  It was like the calm before the storm; creatures had retired, only to return and cause more havoc later.  Or something like that. 

Makoto’s eyes were heavy, and his mouth was dry.  They had passed around a canteen a few times as a reminder to stay hydrated, but for the most part, the only thing that had actually transpired was that they were steadily growing more and more tired.

His head was drooping forward, eyes barely open, when they finally heard footsteps.  It was a slow, careful shuffle – not someone dragging their feet, but maybe someone trying to look less conspicuous?  Maybe it was the stranger who had spoken to them earlier.  Yamazaki, Makoto reminded himself.  If that was even his real name. 

Haruka had yet to relax beside him.  There was a tension in his shoulders, a certain alertness belied by the fact that his eyes were closed.  Makoto picked his head up, listening hard.

The shuffling stopped near them, and then there were murmured voices.  One was familiar – Nagisa’s usual energy was subdued, but hopefully this was confirmation that he was alive and (relatively) unharmed.  As predicted, the stranger they had met earlier stepped into their enclosure.  He had one hand wrapped around Nagisa’s upper arm, half escorting him. 

“Sit,” Yamazaki said quietly.  “Before someone sees.”

The blond was quick to obey; he settled down next to Makoto without argument.  The lack of retort in itself was a testament to the seriousness of the situation.  Makoto glanced sideways, eyeing his friend.  Nagisa was a little pale, but he seemed otherwise fine.  There were no obvious injuries that he could see – no broken bones, no scratches.  If anything, Nagisa just seemed tired.

“She’ll ask for you soon,” the stranger said, nodding in Makoto’s direction.  “Try to get some rest.  She can’t pull anything if you can see it coming.”

Word games after an anxious, sleepless night seemed impossible.  Makoto wished for a cup of tea and the safety of the temple. 

Aiichirou shifted where he sat, feet shuffling in the dirt.  “You’ll explain later?” he asked, sounding just as tired as Makoto felt.  “Yamazaki-senpai… right?”

There was a flicker of something in the stranger’s eyes, a sudden startle as though he hardly recognized his own name.  “That’s… right.”  He sounded politely puzzled.  “I’ll explain as best I’m able.” 

Nagisa sagged against his side, and Makoto turned to look at him.  The blond’s eyes were closed – it seemed he had fallen asleep.  Makoto shifted, cradling Nagisa’s body against his side a little more comfortably, before looking to Haruka.

Yamazaki did not immediately leave, however.  He stalled in the entrance of their small clearing.  It almost felt like he was hesitating – something on the tip of his tongue that he wanted to say, but couldn’t find the words for it.  Finally, he spoke.  “How long has it been?”

Aiichirou started from where he had apparently been dozing.  “I – I’m sorry?”

The other man looked over his shoulder, expression contemplative.  “You’re much older than I remember.”  It was a roundabout way of answering the question, but it dawned on Makoto that perhaps this was his way of asking what year it was?  Within a place like this, where time didn’t seem to pass as much as it seemed to grind to a stuttering halt with the activity and the constant light, was it possible that Yamazaki had lost track of time? 

Makoto remembered the stories of children being snatched up by faeries and raised by them, only to be found years and years later without having aged a day.  There were other, darker whispers of faeries that took humans as pets, or as meals.  Makoto wasn’t sure which idea he disliked more.  But clearly Yamazaki had not been made a meal.  Had he made the mistake of making a deal with the folk, only to realize he had been living a waking dream for however long?  The slight shiver that idea produced was enough to rouse Nagisa, who gave a quiet whine as he shifted. 

“Three years,” Aiichirou clarified.  “Give or take,” he amended.  “I’m sorry.  I don’t… I don’t know more specifically than that.”

Yamazaki’s brows furrowed, and he crossed his arms over his chest.  “Three years,” he repeated tonelessly.  “I see.”

That was all he said before he left, whipping around the edge of a tree as quickly and gracefully as some of the faeries that were wandering around.

* * *

 

It wasn’t long before Makoto found himself once again standing before the king.  Or the queen.  Yamazaki had called it _she_ , and now, Makoto was starting to understand.  The king _was_ technically a queen.

Because the person who sat upon the dais was no longer shapelessly pale and drawn – instead, bright eyes peered from a face framed by long, red hair, and that dangerous smile was rimmed by lips the color of blood.  There were still dark smudges beneath the king’s eyes, circles so dark that they looked bruised, and her cheeks were still gaunt, and her arms still appeared frail and thin.  But this time, the voice was not toneless and empty, but high and clear.  The shapeless outfit she had worn before had been traded for a long gown that pooled on the floor.  If she hadn’t still appeared so thin, she might have seemed like a human woman. 

“Priest,” she greeted, resting one finger against her bottom lip.  “My darling.  Do come closer.”

Makoto tried not to shudder.  He couldn’t decide if she was more or less intimidating in this form, and still hadn’t when her hand shot out to encircle his wrist.  Her nails were sharp, and her grip was strong despite the frailty with which she appeared. 

They stood still for a long moment before Makoto obliged, stepping closer.  This seemed to please the king, for she sat up straighter and smiled even wider.  Makoto tried not to think that it looked like the expression of a starving man staring down a particularly appetizing meal.  In essence, it _was_ – and he was clearly the meal, in a manner of speaking.

“Tell me, Makoto,” she said.  The sound of his name pouring from those lips did make him shudder; Makoto wanted to yank his hand back.  There was something about his name from a faerie’s mouth that made him uncomfortable.  “Tell me this.  What can come down, but never up?”

That was an easy one.  Rain, of course – because their lives revolved around water, and the rains, and the Water Spirit and its whims.  Makoto did not answer right away – he didn’t want to squander his correct answer as quickly as the king had posed the question.  What if the next riddle wasn’t so easy?

Someone brought a chair for him and left it pressing against the back of his knees.  The king motioned with her free hand for him to sit, so Makoto did.  They were still touching, the woman’s hand ensconcing his wrist.  Makoto imagined he could feel her fingers scraping against his magic, chipping it away in barely perceptible pieces. 

“I assume you were involved in the summon that took place recently,” she said after a bout of silence.  Makoto was startled; it was the most conversational he had ever heard her.  “Pity.”

“A – why?” Makoto jumped at the chance to learn something, anything.  It likely wouldn’t help him find where his friends had been scattered, but it was better than sitting idly and pretending he enjoyed word games. 

The king withdrew her hand and rested her chin on it instead.  Her bright eyes were staring unblinkingly; Makoto shifted in his seat.  “Because it would be a pity to waste you.” 

There was a shout of laughter behind them, and Makoto had to keep himself from whipping his head around to look.  He could imagine someone as sinister as the king laughing at his friends’ eyes being gouged out of their sockets, or at an animal being skinned alive.  The long, sleepless night (if it had even been a full night, or night at all) had left him jumpy and anxious on top of the exhaustion. 

“What does that mean?” he asked tiredly.  The tips of his fingers were buzzing with energy despite the desire to yawn that was creeping up the back of his throat. 

She smiled and put the tip of one finger to her lip.  “We should be so lucky to have such a powerful priest wander into our midst,” she said.  “Unfortunately, the others aren’t nearly as impressive as you, darling.”

It was certainly discomfiting to be called darling by such a creature, but her words did give Makoto pause.  Others?  Did she mean other priests?  _Were_ there other priests?  Clearly there were other acolytes, and the magic of other elements was accessible to those who were compatible, but he had never considered that other spirits might wander the earth and choose priests at their whims.  The Water Spirit had been a tangible presence in the lives of their ancestors, so there were not only legends and stories but formal writings devoted to the spirit’s might and reach.  Then again, was it really so crazy to think that other spirits existed?  There were stranger things, one of which was peering curiously at him as his thoughts raced. 

“Others?” he parroted finally.  Unless, of course, she was simply referring to his companions.  His thoughts had bounded out of control based on only a single word. 

Her only answer this time was that smile and a slow blink.  “My question first.”

Right.  The riddle.  Makoto had almost forgotten.  He quieted for a moment longer until the king reached for his wrist again.  This time, she merely played her fingers over the lines of his tattoos.  It made his skin prickle, as though the markings were moving along his skin and away from her touch. 

“The – the rain,” he answered, trying to take his wrist back.  Her grip was again much stronger than it appeared; he could barely budge.  “My question now,” he added – and any courage that had stirred in his chest disappeared as the king lifted her head. 

Her eyes shone with an ethereal light, and when she took her hand back from Makoto’s wrist, there was something tangible between them.  It was with a queasy feeling that he realized it was magic; the stuff was twisted into thin, opalescent ropes that she wound between her fingers.  He had no idea if it was a substantial amount of magic, having never seen the substance in a physical form aside from what he had used to attack the strange creature at the temple.  It was uncomfortable, and it _stung_ , especially when she twisted the ropes into her palm and tore the connection it had to Makoto’s wrist. 

And then she brought it to her mouth, tipping her head back and jaws unhinging wider than any human mouth Makoto had ever seen, and ate it.

He could see her throat working as she swallowed, and when she tipped her head forward to look at him again, he could see her cheeks coloring with a rosy, human glow.  “Now,” she said softly.  “Your question.”  She paused, drew herself up, and sighed out a slow breath.  “It has been many years since I have seen a priest with my own eyes.  There truly is nothing like _fresh_ magic.” 

It wasn’t a satisfying answer, but Makoto wasn’t ready to be brave again.  So he nodded like that made sense – what, was everyone else’s magic like rice that had been left out overnight, stale and crunchy?  It seemed like such a silly analogy.

“Now, priest,” she continued, “answer me this.”

Makoto cast his eyes toward his lap and tried to promise himself that he wouldn’t fall asleep.

* * *

 

This time, it wasn’t the king who decided to end their talk. 

They had been mid-conversation (if it could even be called that) when the clearing fell eerily silent.  The king had looked up, stopping short mid-sentence and then standing with a flourish.  Makoto hadn’t seen her upright before then; she wasn’t as physically tall as her presence felt, but it made her no less intimidating.  When she pushed her sleeves up to her elbows and clasped her hands together, her forearms were slender but no longer sickly.  She drew her hands apart, the shimmer of magic in the air between them, and then smiled.

“Priest,” she said, turning her unblinking eyes back to Makoto, “I will trust you not to do anything reckless.”

Then she stepped down from the dais, the long edges of her clothing dragging along the ground.  It fluttered behind her feet as she walked; it certainly was strange, to see the king moving so quickly and gracefully.  Then again, with how sluggish and tired he felt, Makoto was sure the energy she now moved with had come from him, and that if he tried to stand, his legs might not function as normal.  He could barely keep his eyes open.  Every blink stung, and his mind was a little hazy.  Maybe it was good that something was happening – anything for a few minutes of rest, or at least a few minutes during which he didn’t need to frantically solve word games.

He turned in his seat to watch her move through the sparse and still oddly silent crowd; she moved so quickly and quietly that she almost appeared to float.  As she disappeared beyond the bend, the trees seemed to close the gap behind her.  Makoto rubbed one hand across his eyes to try and squint more carefully at the edge of the trees.  There was definitely magic there, but his own reserves felt so weak (and he had managed to learn only so much over the past few weeks) that he could hardly sense it. 

The clearing was still silent.  Few creatures remained, and several were slinking back into the trees with wary glances.  But no one was talking, and without a more precise sense of what was happening, Makoto wasn’t sure it would be a good idea to start poking around.  Or to move at all, really. 

He had been so focused on staring down a group of creatures clustered together by the edge of the clearing that he didn’t notice another presence until someone gripped him by the upper arm and yanked him to his feet.  Makoto gave a noise that was somewhere between a gasp and a yelp as he whipped his head back around.

“Quiet,” Yamazaki hissed with a jerky shake of his head.  “We need to move quickly.”

Makoto stumbled to his feet.  Yamazaki was leading him to the back of the dais, to the far edge of the trees and away from where he remembered leaving the others.  “What’s going on?” he whispered back.  “Did you do something?”

Yamazaki turned back to look at him with his mouth twisted into a grimace.  “I’ll explain later,” he said shortly.  “Can you run?”

He looked down at his legs, brows pinching upward.  They were already trembling, but his heart was pounding and there was nervous energy collecting in the pit of his stomach.  “I – I’ll try,” Makoto answered.  “Where are my friends?”

“Just wait,” Yamazaki cut him off, pulling him forward again.  “And when I say run, _do it_.”

“Run where?” Makoto pressed, anxious again.  “There isn’t a way out.”  He knew only because it was something the king had talked about at length, how there were no exits out of the court available to humans, that climbing out of this encampment required a faerie’s touch.  It was designed to keep human intruders from escaping and from outsiders from finding their hideaway – which had obviously put them in a bind.  His skin prickled.  Did that mean Yamazaki really was inhuman?

“Only half true,” Yamazaki ground out.  They were walking fast, almost a slow jog.  “But the doors only open for certain times.”  He paused to glance behind them and then gestured for them to pick up the pace.  “If we don’t make it now, the next one won’t open for another two weeks, and we don’t have that kind of time.”

I _don’t have that kind of time_ , the thought occurred to him unbidden.  Yamazaki had said he only had a matter of days before he was too weak, let alone _weeks_.  Makoto swallowed hard. 

“After the lights, _left_ ,” Yamazaki said sharply.  “Close your eyes if you have to.  Just keep running.”

Makoto didn’t fully understand what that meant until they had hung a hard left around the trees and were running towards a path that cut off abruptly after a short distance.  They were running towards a sharp plateau, and he looked to Yamazaki with a question in his throat but not enough breath to force it out.  Were they supposed to slide down the side of an embankment?  Or throw themselves right over the edge?  If there was water at the bottom, Makoto supposed he could maybe manipulate it in some way?  He seemed to be doing well with learning under pressure – maybe. 

“ _Illusion_ ,” he said.  “ _Ignore it_.”

Makoto’s heart jumped as they stepped right off the edge of the ground and started jogging over what looked to be _nothing_ ; after only a few steps from the edge, the ground was a dizzying distance beneath their feet, but his footfalls were still meeting something solid.  He tried to keep himself from looking down, but the queasy unease in his stomach didn’t wane.

Yamazaki stopped short at what appeared to be the exact center and then turned on heel.  Makoto doubled over to catch his breath; even jogging slowly, he could hardly force himself to keep moving.  “Something… something wrong?” he wheezed. 

“Quiet.”  Yamazaki stood still for a full minute.  He really did seem like a faerie; he was so still, Makoto couldn’t even tell if he was breathing.  “Okay, we don’t have a lot of time.  Let’s run.”

He wiped his hand across the back of his mouth and stood.  His heart was racing and his legs were trembling, but the idea of being caught and taken back to the king – where she would probably be irritated enough by his disobedience to just eat him whole instead of piece by piece – was enough to give him the energy to continue. 

They took off again.  Makoto tried to keep pushing, drawing on all the energy reserves he could muster.  The air was less heavy, which made it at least marginally easier, but there was a stitch in his side that hurt with every breath, and his legs felt like they would give out at any moment.  Yamazaki grabbed his arm again to pull him after Makoto fell a few steps behind and then finally, finally, after some time later, they ground to a halt.

“Sit,” Yamazaki ordered, pushing him toward a tree.  “We don’t have long.” 

Makoto collapsed, leaning his head against a tangle of exposed roots.  “Where are we going?”

The other boy’s expression hardened.  “North.  It’s the fastest way out of this territory.”

He nodded, swallowing another deep breath to try to slow his heart rate.  It felt like only seconds had passed before Yamazaki was urging him to his feet again; Makoto braced himself against the tree to stay upright.   

“Everyone’s waiting,” he said, and that was enough.  “Let’s go.”

* * *

 

They didn’t have time for any happy reunions.  As soon as he and Yamazaki broke into the thicket in which their friends had been hiding, everyone jumped to their feet.  They seemed to know the plan; Rin had his palms cupped in front of him even as he stood, and there was magic crackling in the air in the form of a small, protective barrier.

“This way,” Yamazaki started for the far end of the thicket.  A small river wound through, and the sound of running water made Makoto feel better than he could have imagined.  That, and the fact that Haruka was immediately at his side, helping to support his weight.  Yamazaki sloshed through the river and, upon reaching the other side, motioned the rest of them forward.  “Don’t step on any of the stones,” he warned.  “This is the edge of their territory, and the stepping stones are warning signals.”

With Haruka at his side, Makoto eased carefully into the water and then even more carefully up the bank on the other side.  It felt almost like passing through the barrier at Iwatobi; a cool, wet sensation that left him dry and unharmed on the other side.

Once they had all crossed the river, Yamazaki paused.  “The last door… should be here, I think.”  He scuffed his foot in the grass, paused, and then did it again.  There was a noisy clang, loud enough to make Makoto jump, and the other boy crouched to pull at what looked like a brass ring.  The ground lifted easily, revealing a perfectly circular hole in the dirt. 

“I’ve never made it this far, so I’ll go first,” he offered.  “But we only have a few minutes left before this closes.  Everyone move fast.”

There was tension in the air as Yamazaki sat down and slid into the hole.  He didn’t immediately reemerge, nor were there any immediate signs of danger, so Nagisa and Rei were next.  Rin gave a sharp jerk of his head to Aiichirou and then to himself and Haruka.  He was still holding their barrier, probably to more efficiently hide their presences, so Makoto mouthed a quick _thank you_ to him before following his friends into the ground.

It wasn’t quite a vertical drop, but Makoto landed hard on his feet and collapsed onto his knees.  They were underground now, in a passage that was cool and damp, but flickering lights shone along the walls.  Reflective colored glass shone at varying intervals, embedded into the walls, floor, and ceiling. 

Yamazaki took in a shuddering breath.  “If we can clear this, we’re out.  Is everyone here?”

Rin was the last one to drop down, and he landed on both feet, teetering.  “Yeah.  Let’s go.”

Haruka wound his hand into Makoto’s to pull him to his feet and then forward.  Makoto stumbled, offered a sheepish laugh and smile, and tried to keep up.

“What happened?” he asked quietly.  Their footsteps echoed in the small passage, and his voice sounded louder in his own ears.  “How did everyone get out?”

Haruka nodded at Yamazaki’s back.  “He said he’s been scouting this route for a while.”

It wasn’t a satisfying answer, and this time, Makoto was tired enough not to care that it probably wasn’t the right time for a conversation.  “ _And_?”

His knight glanced sideways, the barest of smiles on his lips.  “And we made a distraction.  They should be flooded for a while, if we’re lucky.” 

Makoto looked back at Rin, who bared his teeth in a grin.  “Just keep going.”

Then he looked past Rin, at the walls behind them.  “I think we need to speed up,” he said, forcing down the panic in his voice.  “I think… we’re out of time.”

Yamazaki glanced back at them, started, and then broke into a sprint.  “ _Run_!”

There was no rumbling to warn them that the walls were closing up behind them, no sound to suggest that the passage they were walking was slowly being reabsorbed by the ground.  There was nothing except the pounding of their feet against the floor and their heavy panting.  Makoto’s legs were numb, and he couldn’t explain how he could keep putting one foot in front of the other except that Haruka was pulling him and Rin was pushing, and he kept stumbling over loose dirt but had managed to keep his balance.

He had never run so quickly in his life, Makoto thought.  The promise of certain death, at being swallowed alive and then suffocated by the earth, was enough to ratchet up his pulse and to push him to keep running.  It felt like one bad situation after another after another after another.  At least his shoes hadn’t broken.  At least Haruka was still holding his hand, even if his grip was so tight that Makoto couldn’t feel his fingers.  At least they were all together, and no one was missing limbs, or eyes, or anything else obvious.

And at least, for once, there was more than a metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel.  The walls behind them were still closing in fast, but the light was getting brighter.  The sky beyond the tunnel was streaked with pinks and oranges from the glow of the setting sun, and Makoto had never been happier to see the actual passage of time. 

And he would have stayed that way, too, if they hadn’t sprinted out of the mouth of a cave and tumbled right over the edge of a cliff.  He didn’t have the breath to yell as they sprinted out into thin air and then fell forward.  It wasn’t a long drop, and there was another river at the bottom to cushion their fall.  Thankfully, the current was weak and the water was cool and it seemed as though they had finally broken free of faerie influence. 

They dragged themselves to the shoreline and collapsed.  Everyone was still breathing hard, and no one was injured.  Makoto was missing his pack, which meant they had lost the map and all the supplies he had been carrying.  Everyone else seemed to have nothing on them except the clothes they had been wearing, but they were all alive.  That was what was truly important.

Plus, he could feel his strength starting to return from even the brief contact with the water.  Droplets lingered on his skin, and Makoto tried to pretend he understood what it felt like to absorb energy from water.  Maybe it was working.  He _did_ feel like he could stand without collapsing, even after all the running for their lives. 

It was Nagisa who broke the silence when he started laughing, a quiet, hysterical giggle.  “Let’s not do that again, okay?”

Makoto sighed out a breath and then coughed when river water tickled his throat.  “I agree.”

Yamazaki seemed to be the only one with energy left; he was sitting up, looking carefully at the palms of his hands and flexing his fingers.  “We should only take a few minutes here.  We need to put some more distance between us before it gets dark.”

He pushed himself up onto his elbows and gave a shaky laugh.  “We don’t have to run, do we?”

It was the first time he had seen Yamazaki smile.  The other boy’s mouth split into a crooked smile.  “I don’t think so.”

Aiichirou stood on shaky legs and ran his hands over his clothes to dry them.  “The nearest town is at least two days from here… depending on how far we’ve traveled.  I think we can follow the river to it?”

Haruka got to his feet next and shook his head to dry his hair.  “Good.  Then let’s go.”  He offered his hand to Makoto, who paused.  It seemed so normal – the number of times he had offered his hand to Haruka to pull him up were too many to count, and here they were.  He took Haruka’s hand and allowed himself to be helped to standing. 

“I still want answers,” Makoto said, half to Haruka and half to Yamazaki, who was staring up at the mouth of the cave from which they had tumbled.  “I want to hear the whole story.  Everything.”

Yamazaki waved a hand and started along the rocky riverbank.  “Can it wait until we’ve made camp?”

“Fine,” Makoto allowed.  “But don’t think I’ll forget.”

* * *

 

Walking was a chore.  Even if the water had given him some of his energy back, it wasn’t nearly enough to be operating at full strength.  When they finally stopped for the night – which was only after a few hours of putting distance between themselves and the cave entrance – Makoto wanted nothing more than to sleep for the next two days, and to eat anything at all. 

Traveling near the river was to their benefit because no one had managed to salvage their bags, and they sorely needed a meal.  The river wasn’t particularly wide or deep, but there were fish; Rin and Rei took up residence on an outcropping of rock and caught fish using the little magic they had left.  Haruka took to making a fire, and Aiichirou moved to maintain a barrier around them for the night.  That left him, Nagisa, and Yamazaki around the fire in relative silence until Makoto broke it.

“Now?” he asked.  “Please?”

Yamazaki rolled his shoulders, staring pensively into the budding flames.  “I accidentally breached court territory a few years ago, apparently,” he started easily.  “With a group.  We were trying to fortify the edges of the temple’s barriers to make sure nothing could get in.  There are talismans – old ones – that have to be replenished every 20 years, so…”  He trailed off.  “We went four days without eating before we had to give in.”

It wasn’t precisely the information Makoto had been looking for, but he didn’t interrupt.  The full story would probably fill in more pieces than he knew were missing.  So he nodded, a tacit encouragement for Yamazaki to continue.

“The king and her son are very… interested in humans, and human lifestyles,” he continued.  “So they let some of us live.”  Makoto tried not to grimace at _some of us_.  “But it’s hard to tell what’s true and what isn’t, in a place like that, so it took me a long time to figure out that there actually were paths out of the court that we could take.  By the time I found one I could use, I couldn’t actually take it.  Because I guess… I didn’t want to.”  He gave a short laugh and a slight twist of his mouth, almost a smile.  “But Nitori reminded me.  I just needed someone to make a distraction to draw the king away.”

Aiichirou sat down heavily next to them and cocked his head.  “Wait.  How did I remind you?”

Yamazaki rolled one shoulder again, stretching his arm out.  “My name.  I’d forgotten it.”

Makoto couldn’t even imagine what that would be like.  Forgetting your own name?  Forgetting your purpose?  He almost didn’t want to ask what had happened to the other humans they had let live.  From the way Yamazaki spoke, they probably either didn’t want to escape, or they had been killed already.  “So what happened?  How did you get everyone together?” he pressed.

“You and you,” he nodded at Nagisa and Aiichirou, “were already with the knight. So those two I got back from where some of the fae were having them fight – told ‘em that the king wanted to see all the humans.  It’s funny… they forget that humans can lie because they can’t.”  Yamazaki did smile this time, a sort of fierce grin.  “So I lied, and once we had everyone together, it was pretty easy to make a big mess.”

It was a little anticlimactic.  Makoto had half been expecting them to summon some great, otherworldly creature to attack the faeries, or for something to be destroyed.  Haruka had mentioned a flood – maybe they had created their own giant tsunami to wash over part of faerie territory?  Whatever the case, it had worked, so maybe it wasn’t so anticlimactic after all. 

“I think,” Aiichirou said softly, “we breached their barrier.  There was someone waiting outside… It felt powerful.”

Yamazaki leaned back on his hands, tipping his head to look up at the night sky.  “Yeah.  I think we got lucky.  If it had just been a mess, the king wouldn’t have left.  But it’s out of our hands now.  All we can do is hope they don’t follow us.”

Makoto couldn’t help the thought that maybe Hytis had followed them to the court and had tried to break in to find them, and then finish them off.  He didn’t seem like the type who would be deterred by a room full of weird creatures, especially given that he seemed to be one.  Makoto half hoped it _had_ been Hytis, and that he and the king would destroy each other in some epic, last-ditch battle.  Unlikely, but he was tired, and it seemed reasonable enough.

Haruka brought over a handful of fish skewered on sticks and laid them carefully near the fire to cook.  Then he settled in next to Makoto and sighed, quiet.

“This river is supposed to feed from a lake,” Aiichirou said finally.  “And there’s a village there.  We should be able to get more supplies, and maybe rest for a little bit.  But…”

“To get around Dark Court territory, we’ll need to go west,” Yamazaki interrupted.  “Far.  They’ve expanded a lot over the past few years.  You’d do well to update the temple.”

Aiichirou nodded, clasping his hands in his lap.  “I will.”

They sat in relative silence until the fish were cooked.  Dinner was also a silent affair; everyone was too tired by then to say much, and when the fish were eaten and the bones discarded safely, they had no mats to put out or any bedding to keep warm, so they simply lay near the fire.  With Haruka’s warm weight at his side, and the firelight flickering on his face, it took only seconds for Makoto to fall asleep, with the vague hope that he didn’t dream about running from more danger.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for taking your whole lives to get this up! Thanks for sticking with me, guys! <3
> 
> Also, as a teaser - I've had part of the next chapter written since I started this fic, and... there will be a sans clothes scene (sort of). So look forward to that!


	18. Puddle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being the worst human. Here's a chapter way later than I promised.
> 
> Also, when you're writing smut, at some point you have to throw up your hands and go, "FUCK IT. I'M WRITING COCK."

He couldn’t decide if time passed slower or faster now that they had broken free of faerie territory. 

As it was, it had been a strange turn of events, with Yamazaki bursting into their clearing hiding spot and announcing that they had to move quickly, or they would lose their chance.  He had brought Rin a few steps behind, who had appeared physically winded but no less magically capable, and he had left them with terse instructions to cause the most damage that they could in the shortest amount of time possible.  With Rin’s destructive capabilities (and, likely helpful, his raging irritation), it had taken next to no time to put together a stunt large enough to draw faerie attention.

They had torn a hole the size of a grown man in an apparent barrier established by faeries – which, in itself, seemed backward; what need would unsavory creatures have for a barrier?  What could possibly be so much worse than _them_?  But the fact was, it had been there for the breaking, and they had rent a hole large enough to warrant their escape.  They had worked in tandem to fill the hole with as much water that could be condensed from the air surrounding, from any nearby sources, and from the ground as possible, which was a significant amount – enough for an impressive wave, and maybe even enough for a lasting flood.  Then they had made a run for it because the noise of the spell had caused a flurry of activity in the nearby trees, and there were already murmured voices growing louder as others approached.

Haruka had felt something lurking on the other side of that barrier that made his skin crawl with anxious energy, and it was that same anxious energy that had made them all run a little faster and a little harder.  Yamazaki had promised to retrieve Makoto and join them, and he tried desperately to keep himself from wondering any _what if_ s as they skirted the edge of faerie activity.  As strange as their surroundings were, Haruka found he was paying so little attention to where they were going that he had almost blindly walked back into a faerie gathering.  Rin had yanked him back with a telling scowl but not willing to waste breath on berating him. 

It seemed too that their trust in Yamazaki had not been misplaced; when they had reached the edge of faerie territory, stopped short by the far reach of their barrier, it took only minutes before Yamazaki and Makoto appeared from the trees.

The rush of relief – and of reluctant gratitude – at seeing Makoto’s admittedly ashen face when they appeared was nearly palpable.  Makoto moved to him immediately as they all followed Yamazaki down beyond the reaches of the faerie barrier and beyond their territory.  A stressful ending to an already stressful situation.  Haruka wondered for only a moment if there would be faeries following them, and tried to put the thought from his head.  It returned, unbidden, when they all stretched out around the evening fire, and although Makoto was asleep almost instantly, it took Haruka much longer to relax.

The important point was that they were all alive and well, but he couldn’t help the creeping feeling that they had forgotten something.

* * *

It took three days to reach any kind of civilization.

That was three days longer than anyone wanted to be walking, and three days without a proper meal, a proper bed, or a proper bath.  Yamazaki proved to be useful in identifying edible plants as they moved along the river, and there certainly was no shortage of fish, but everyone was exhausted and anxious and sick of each other by the time they reached the edge of a small village.  There was a cluster of homes at what must have been the heart of the town, with a few more scattered farther away.  Long fields stretched all the way to the far expanse of trees, and a winding dirt road divided the town into neat but lopsided portions.

Haruka couldn’t remember the last time he had been so happy to see strangers. They had breached and then repaired the edge of a small barrier easily and made their way toward the largest cluster.  Makoto wasn’t the head of their group, but he would likely be needed to prove their intentions; he gave Makoto’s hand a sharp tug to pull him forward.  Makoto stumbled on his feet, offering a shaky laugh and a hesitant smile – clearly not paying attention to the road.  Makoto had been lost in thought for some time, but he couldn’t be sure if it was from anxiety or exhaustion.  Either way, they had hopefully reached a place to rest and recuperate; it was only a matter of time before Makoto was back to his usual self. 

The best part about the town was the fact that the river they had been following did indeed swell into a lake.  It wasn’t impressive in size, but the water glittered under the afternoon sun in such an inviting manner.  A thin, stone bridge extended into the center of the water, ending in a circular structure that looked not unlike a small shrine built atop an even smaller island.  Fitting for a farming town to have a shrine right on the water.  Haruka half-hoped they would get some time to rest in it, surrounded on all sides by their preferred element and away from the rest of their friends.

It wasn’t as though he didn’t appreciate his friends’ presences, but the number of people in their group had only continued to swell.  Nagisa and Rei’s sometimes-friendly banter plus Rin’s occasional snipes plus Aiichirou’s sometimes-exasperated interjections plus now also Yamazaki’s mostly mild corrections – there was constantly noise, someone was almost always arguing about something, and Makoto’s face hadn’t gained much color since they had left.  Haruka had a lot of things on his mind, and the constant interruptions were giving him a headache.

He had paid close attention to everyone’s stories about what had happened while they were with the faeries.  Aiichirou had mentioned that the woman staring at him had said absolutely nothing the entire time but he had had the uncomfortable sensation that she was rifling through his thoughts.  Rei had given a funny little shiver and said something about how they weren’t as terrible as they were just curious, but they had seemed absolutely fascinated at watching himself and Rin spar, particularly when they had drawn blood.  Nagisa had pulled a face and shrugged before showing them an impressive bite-mark on his shoulder that was purple around the edges but apparently didn’t hurt.  All in all, it seemed the faeries could have done much more damage than they had.  Of course, when their discussion devolved into an argument about who had had the worst time, well, his headache only got stronger.

Makoto, it seemed, had already realized his discomfort.  He had taken to holding Haruka’s hand loosely in his own as they walked, quiet and contemplative.  It wasn’t until they had breached the village proper that he spoke up.

“I hope they have a map we could use here,” he said quietly.  “I don’t know what happened to my things… I hope Ama-sensei won’t be angry.”

If she knew half of what they had been through and was still angry, Haruka thought sourly, then he had a few choice words for her.  “Mm.” 

Makoto squeezed his hand and smiled tiredly.  “Do you think we’re putting this village in danger by stopping here?” he asked, even quieter.  There was no need; Nagisa and Rin were engaged in a rather loud conversation a few steps ahead.  “You don’t think…”

“Stop it,” Haruka said shortly.  “You’re overthinking again.”  Not that he wasn’t _also_ overthinking.  But if he kept it to himself, he was keeping his share of their combined anxiety contained. 

His priest looked down at the dirt road with a small smile.  “Okay.”

As they reached the center of the village square, an old man dressed in ceremonial garb emerged from one of the homes.  He carried a long staff, its ornate tip decorated with rings of gold that clinked together as he moved.  It was a comforting sound; Haruka was reminded of their own village elders and the years he had spent looking up at shrine keepers during ceremonies. 

“Welcome,” he called, and thankfully all conversations stopped short.  “Who goes?”

Makoto stepped forward, pulling Haruka with him and bowing.  “I’m sorry to bother you.  My friends and I were traveling from the temple, and we… got lost.”  Technically not untrue.  Haruka clasped his hands to bow as well.  “This was the only village we knew we could reach after our supplies ran out… Is there a space we could stay for the night?”

The man stopped in front of them, leaning on his staff with both hands.  He eyed Makoto warily as he straightened back up, but his eyes did linger on Makoto’s iridescent tattoos.  The midafternoon sun made them shimmer a deep, royal blue.  “We had heard rumors that the priest was traveling with companions,” he mused.  “But I’m afraid we live far too close to danger to allow strangers inside without a proper test.”

Makoto smiled, and his eyes were a little glassy with tiredness.  “Of course.  We, um…”  He glanced behind them, presumably to Yamazaki.  “We might’ve had a brush with trouble ourselves, so we understand.”

“If you are who you appear, this will take no time at all,” the man assured them.  “You may call me Isobe.  You are?”  It took a few moments of introduction before Isobe nodded and clasped his hands.  “There is a simple spell for testing illusions,” he explained.  “If you would each step forward, I will examine you in turn.  We have had… complications in the past, and I would prefer not to endanger my village.”

Haruka did stop to wonder why they hadn’t come to meet them at the edge of the barrier instead, if that was the case.  It seemed risky to allow strangers this deep into the village.  He and Makoto stepped forward together, allowing Isobe to murmur a quiet string and then raise what appeared to be jade meditation beads wrapped around his forearm.  When nothing happened, he smiled and motioned for someone else to take their place.

Although the procedure only took minutes, it felt as though it stretched on for hours.  For each person Isobe tested, Haruka wondered if perhaps one of their friends had been left behind on accident and a faerie had taken their place.  Perhaps that was the source of his lingering unease.  However, no illusion fell from their friends’ forms, and when they had all been scanned, Isobe turned and gestured with his staff.

“We are pleased to welcome you, priest and friends,” he said earnestly.  “I apologize for any inconvenience.”

“No need,” Makoto answered quickly.  “We understand.”

Isobe tapped his staff on the dirt road rhythmically, two sets of two very long pauses.  Then the meandering homes behind him seemed to shimmer for a moment, the façade of a tiny village melting seamlessly into something much more impressive.  Straw huts were replaced by larger estates, the dirt path became packed and solid, and a woman appeared from thin air somewhere down the road, dressed in light colors and carrying a sack on her hip.

“Welcome to Kurigawa,” Isobe said when the illusion had completely melted away.  “Being so close to the Dark Court, we take extra precautions to protect our citizens.  Please, if you will follow me, we would be happy to find a place for you to rest.  If you have come from that direction, I am sure you have had a trying travel.”

Makoto offered a sheepish smile.  “Well… I suppose, yes.  We really appreciate it.”

Isobe led them past the town square that was no longer empty but bustling with activity and then down a smaller side street.  “As payment, priest, we would request that you and your knight bless our shrine.  We are sorely in need of reinforcement.”

“I – we would be happy to, Isobe-san,” Makoto replied.  “We – we don’t have much with us anymore.”

Isobe cast a knowing glance over his shoulder.  “Truly unfortunate, any tangles with the fae.  They have a way about them, no?”

Haruka was struck again by that creeping feeling, the tension somewhere in his stomach, the nagging worry that they had forgotten something.  Makoto either couldn’t feel it or it was just his own paranoia, for his priest gave a tired laugh as an affirmative response.

 They nearly missed the door to a small ryokan.  Isobe slid the doors open and ushered them all inside.  There were so many of them that they clustered awkwardly in the genkan, shuffling around each other to remove and store their shoes.  Haruka hadn’t realized just how much mud they had walked through until that moment, when his fingers came away dusty.  “Chifumi-chan!  We have visitors!”

A small woman with dark hair piled on top of her head appeared a moment later.  “Ah, Isobe-sama!  Oh – oh!”  She seemed to recognize Makoto immediately, her eyes sweeping around.  “Priest!  And you all must be from the temple?”  She smiled, revealing dimpled cheeks.  “Please come in!  I will prepare rooms for you.”

Nagisa used Makoto’s free arm as leverage to stand up on his toes.  “I can’t wait for a bath!”

  The blond’s magical presence, which had been weak to begin with given that he had dropped out of the academy very early in his studies, was practically nonexistent, Haruka couldn’t help but note.  Nagisa had explained that the stranger from Okayama had peppered him with questions about human life, wanted to look at his teeth, and then had bitten him hard enough on the shoulder to leave fang-marks, just out of curiosity.  The bite had apparently taken most of his meager magic with it. 

“That sounds nice,” Makoto agreed absently, stepping up onto the tatami and glancing back at Haruka.  “I think we could all use one.”

Chifumi padded down a short hallway and led them into a common area before disappearing around a corner.  Isobe took a seat on one of the cushions positioned around a table and rolled his shoulders.  The others flocked in slowly, taking seats as well.  There were general murmurs about hurting feet and how great it was to sit on something soft, at which Isobe offered a quiet chuckle.

“So you are from the temple?” Isobe directed his question to Aiichirou, who apparently looked more like a temple acolyte than the rest of them.  “It seems our luck is turning for the better this season.  We have a message to pass on to Sakuko-sama, if you are willing.”

Aiichirou furrowed his brows.  It was clear he knew who Sakuko was, even if the rest of them didn’t.  “Oh!  Is this about the forest fires?”

Isobe inclined his head.  “Yes.  Once we have a priest restore our shrine, I am sure it will not trouble us further.  However…”  He trailed off as Chifumi rounded the corner again.  “Well.  You and I can discuss it at length at a later time.”

Yamazaki leaned in to add, “I’d like to be included.  I’m a little out of touch with temple activities, but…”  He smiled, and it was starting to look less and less forced now that they had spent a few days outside of faerieland.  “I’m sure I could be of service, too.”

“Save the talk for after dinner,” Chifumi gestured to the hallway.  “I’ve laid down your futon, and there should be plenty of hot water!  I know it’s early, but I’m sure you boys need the rest if you’ve been traveling.  Please tell me if I can help you with anything else.”  She dropped into a quick bow and then straightened as the others got to their feet to follow her.  “The rooms are this way.  If you’d like to see the gardens, I can fetch you some shoes to wear outside…”

Isobe didn’t rise right away; after a moment of listening to their friends’ footsteps and their chatter about dinner and baths and calling _see you later_ and waving over their shoulders, the older man braced himself against the table to get to his feet.

“Well, I suppose there is no point in waiting,” he said easily.  “Please follow me to the shrine.”

* * *

 

Isobe told them a little more about the town while they walked.  Apparently faerie territory had expanded nearly to their borders at one point, and the temple acolytes had helped keep them at bay.  The ensuing struggle had sent territory yo-yoing back and forth between faerie and human hands for years.  The past few, Isobe said, had been worse than usual because the faerie king’s son had taken to traveling, and without her son to entertain her, the king had organized a flurry of assaults on the village barrier.  That was the reason for the increased security, and why they needed the temple’s assistance again.  Apparently part of the faeries’ assault had included setting fire to talismans remaining in the trees lining the town, and, as a result, the flames had spread and destroyed a few homes inside the barrier before it could be stopped. 

That was an interesting piece of information about the barriers that Haruka tried to file away.  While it stopped magic beings in their tracks, it appeared to do little for physical forces.  But then, why hadn’t their magicked flood simply flowed past the faerie barrier? 

It was almost an answer to his unasked question: The town’s barrier was failing, Isobe told them.  If they could bring the shrine back to proper order and return the favor of the Water Spirit, the barrier would be rejuvenated – not permanently, but certainly long enough for the temple to involve itself. 

If he knew Makoto half as well as he thought, his priest was probably feeling guilty about the fact that they had broken the barrier temporarily to enter the town.  Haruka glanced to Makoto.  The brunet was walking with his hands hanging limply at his sides and his expression almost entirely slack.  So much for that, Haruka thought.  Makoto looked as though he could barely muster the energy to put one foot in front of the other, let alone worry about something. 

Regardless, Isobe led them to the edge of the water and paused.  “I will follow you to the edge of the shrine,” he said.  “And I will arrange for dinner to be brought for you.  However, I am unqualified to enter.  If you need assistance or require anything, please signal.”

Haruka nodded, taking Makoto’s hand.  His priest’s skin was warm despite the fact that his face contained hardly any color.  “We understand.”

Makoto smiled at him.  “We’ll do our best,” he promised, dropping into another bow.  “We appreciate your hospitality more than you know, Isobe-san.”

Isobe nodded deeply and walked with them to the edge of the pier.  The small island on the lake appeared to meld seamlessly with the wooden dock, and a set of stone steps led upward underneath what were clearly aging tori gates.  “Please,” he gestured.  “It should have everything you need, but our miko has gone to the Elements to ask for assistance… I’m afraid you will have to outfit your own sleeping space.”

His priest gave a weak chuckle.  “I don’t think that’ll be a problem, Isobe-san.”

Isobe gave another bow and then turned to make his way back across the pier.  “Then I shall return after my discussions with your temple companions.  Please take care.”

The pier, old as it appeared, did not creak under the old man’s weight.  After a moment of watching him over their shoulders, Makoto offered his hand.  “Well… I don’t know about you, but I really want a bath,” he admitted.  “Let’s go see what we can find.”

It was the most energy with which he had heard Makoto speak in several days; Haruka nodded.

They made their way up the shrine’s steps and headed toward doors that were already open.  The incense burner was not empty, but no sticks were lit.  Makoto paused to toe off his shoes at the door, peering into the shrine.  It was bigger than it appeared from the mainland, and Haruka was willing to bet that magic had something to do with it.  The entryway stretched into a wide hall, and while there was no human noise to beckon them forward, the faint sound of insects and birdsong wavered in the air.

They wandered the shrine for a few minutes, but it was easy to find sleeping quarters.  Makoto immediately set to taking out futon for them, at which Haruka rolled his eyes and made him sit down.  It took a few minutes more to set up their bedding with Makoto sitting sheepishly near the door, eyes downcast but a smile touching his mouth.

“I think the baths are that way,” Haruka nodded.  His magic might have had yet to truly regenerate, but there was still an active pull on his senses when it came to the water.  “Do you want to go now?  Or wait?” 

Makoto struggled to his feet.  “Now.  If I don’t do it now, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stay awake long enough to do it later,” he said, cheerful despite himself.  “And I don’t want to get the futon all dirty.”

Haruka’s response was a shrug, but he followed dutifully a few steps behind Makoto as they wandered back down the hallway.  He had been right about the direction of the baths; it seemed also that Makoto was getting better at sensing the water because it had taken him almost no time to locate it unaided. 

With what little magic Haruka had, it was on Makoto’s shoulders to manipulate the water in their baths.  This took a little longer – despite Makoto’s definitive increase in control, this was less giant explosion of power and more fine-tuning water temperature.  Still good practice for his magical control, but maybe practice that was better-suited to when they were operating at full capacity.  When the baths were filled and they had both soaped and rinsed themselves thoroughly, Haruka was reminded of the first few days of their journey, however long ago, when he had coaxed Makoto into the river for an impromptu swim.

A hot bath and a clean set of temple robes later, they were again wandering the halls of the temple.  The main shrine was quiet and comforting, and there was a certain familiarity about the entire structure that put him at ease.  Or maybe, Haruka mused, it was the fact that he finally felt relaxed after what had been the most stressful week he had so far experienced.

Makoto brought out cushions to sit in front of the altar.  A little color had returned to his cheeks, and he no longer moved so stiffly, but it was clear he was exhausted.  Without the dusty smudges on his skin, the dark circles under his eyes looked almost like bruises.  Makoto sat down heavily, bowing his head as though the effort it took to sit upright was too much.

Haruka sat down next to him.  “Well?” he asked quietly.  If he listened hard enough, Haruka swore he could hear the sound of ocean waves lapping against the shore.

“Do you think…” Makoto started, eyes focused somewhere above the statues lining the shrine walls.  He hesitated for a moment before continuing.  “Do you think we can do this?”

It _did_ seem impossible.  An impossible quest to return a magical creature (spirit?) to its rightful glory.  Haruka rested his hands on his knees, hoping his priest didn’t see the way he had clenched his fists. 

“Didn’t I tell you to stop overthinking?” he said shortly by means of an answer.  “You’re worrying too much.”

Makoto smiled again, that shy, sheepish expression that made his stomach twist.  “I can’t help it.”

“You’re supposed to be relaxing here,” Haruka said.  “So stop it.”

His priest’s smile grew a little wider.  “Okay, Haru-chan.”

Under any other circumstance, Haruka thought he might have protested.  As it was, he lifted his eyes up to the wave pattern along the far wall and said nothing.       

* * *

 

They had eaten a more substantial meal than anything they had consumed in days, and then – after dinner, when they sat together in an empty shrine, futon pressed close together and dim light from the temple structure casting long shadows on their bedding, there had been a spark.  Makoto had reached for his hand, thumb stroking the back of his knuckles, and something had _given_. 

If kissing Makoto in the hallway of the temple had felt good, this felt better – dizzying, heady, warmth, all the good things in the world that he could think of all rolled into one.  Maybe it was the spark of magic in the air or the pink of Makoto’s mouth or the quick, impatient breaths his priest kept taking in, almost gasps.  How could one person make him feel so much?  Makoto had only to look at him, blinking slowly in dim candlelight, to send a rush of heat somewhere through the pit of his stomach.  The mere glimpse of that tongue, swiping slowly over Makoto’s lower lip, made his heart race and insides twist.   

Haruka had known _about_ sex, of course.  He wasn’t clueless; sex was something that adults did and something some of his friends maybe did but not something that anyone _talked_ about.  There were books, crude drawings depicting the proper etiquette for having sex, but books said nothing about if it was awkward, shy glances between inexperienced partners or heads accidentally knocking from overeager touching.  What Haruka did _not_ know were the details, and those were probably important.

But while he had Makoto pinned on his back, panting and squirming a little bit, though, nothing else really seemed to matter.  Who cared if they didn’t know what they were doing?  It had been awkward at first, like most things between them were, but Haruka was trying to open himself up to the swirl of magic in the air, a heady taste on his tongue that wasn’t the inside of Makoto’s mouth or his slightly salty skin.

Some of the books tucked away on the highest shelves were stories of love and passion and adventure.  Their lives were like one of those stories – chased by a demon, haunted by a curse, pushed together by magic and fate and destiny.

“ _Haru_ ,” Makoto said quietly, voice breathy, a hint of urgency but just as much embarrassment.  Like he knew what he wanted but didn’t know how to ask for it.

Haruka dipped down to kiss him, tipping Makoto’s head back.  Kissing was a little strange, if he stopped to think about it too much; he eased his tongue into Makoto’s mouth, touching over the brunet’s lips and then teeth and then the roof of his mouth in slow sweeps.  Kissing also wasn’t sweet, like the stories about passion and romance always wrote.  It didn’t taste like much of anything.  In a way, it reminded Haruka of the water; no distinct flavor but certainly no less enjoyable. 

He had pushed Makoto down in a fit of courage and a swirl of magic, hungrily kissing, nipping at Makoto’s lips and trying not to think about from where, exactly, this drive had come.  Makoto had allowed it, falling back against a threadbare futon and blinking up at him with dewy green eyes and red cheeks and mussed hair from Haruka’s hands running through it.  It was unfamiliar, but Haruka knew enough to know that he _wanted_ his priest.  It wasn’t _just_ magic drawing him closer; it was that familiar, even tan, those kind eyes, that hesitant smile.  Perhaps it was also the rush of heat between his own legs, a pulsing ache he had certainly felt before but never _with_ someone.  Never _about_ someone – well, he stopped to revise that thought because it wasn’t entirely true – never perhaps _caused_ by someone.   

Touching Makoto was even more electrifying; magic sparked between his fingertips and between their skin, and there was practically enough to bathe in it.  It was a presence in the air, the way he felt when he dove too deep into the water and felt pressure all around, ears popping and bubbles streaming from his nose and mouth.

Makoto shifted underneath him, expression twisting with embarrassment.  Haruka had one knee between the brunet’s legs and the other straddling his hip, not entirely on top of Makoto but close enough to feel. 

It was between kisses that Makoto spoke, words halting and unsure.  “Should – shouldn’t we stop?”

Haruka pressed a little higher with his knee, experimentally.  “Why?”

Makoto sucked in a quick breath, almost reproachful in his expression as he tried to scoot backward.  “Be – because…”

He pressed higher again, following Makoto’s retreat.  The other boy squirmed, screwing his eyes up to almost shut and mouth falling a little open, lips parted. 

“We – it’s –”  Makoto struggled harder to find words.  He swallowed hard, and Haruka watched, leaning in to press his mouth to the underside of Makoto’s jaw.  Their bodies were almost laid taut like that, and he could feel the brunet shifting, squirming a little, beneath him.  “It’s probably not –”

 _Not a good idea_ ; he could hear the words before Makoto had even finished his sentence.  Haruka gave his priest’s neck an experimental lick, tasting salt again, probably a combination of nervous sweat and the exertion from traveling in the heat of the day.  Then he leaned in for another kiss, resting one hand beside Makoto’s chest to hoist his weight forward and pressing his thigh firmly between the other boy’s legs, enough to feel that Makoto was hard and squirming beneath him.

Makoto made a noise that was almost a moan, a strangled sound he tried to cut off in his throat.  “H-Haru, we – someone would hear, right?”

Haruka offered only a shrug in response, dipping down to kiss Makoto again and trying to figure out the easiest way to slide his leg.  He had never touched anyone else intimately before, but it couldn’t be _that_ difficult, could it, and the magic swirling around him was clouding his judgment.  Or maybe that was desire.  Was his head swimming with the desire to see his priest naked and panting?  Was it all the magic in the air that made him more willing to try? 

Maybe it was sex that a bond was all about.  Haruka felt his mouth curling into a smile at the thought.  Maybe that was why the priest and knights of the past had never taken another and never married.  Maybe they were too focused on only each other.  In the heat of the moment, of _this_ moment, it seemed reasonable.  

Besides, it was so unlikely that anyone would hear – out here, in the middle of the lake, totally alone.  The shrine was empty save for the two of them, and the stick of incense that was still burning at the window. 

He slid forward, rubbing his knee between Makoto’s legs and relishing the startled moan it produced before he withdrew.  Haruka settled with one leg on either side of Makoto’s hips, unable to decide if it was uncomfortable or sexy that he could feel Makoto’s arousal pressing against him.  Makoto’s teeth were scoring his own lower lip and his eyes were squeezed shut, cheeks dusky pink.  It was probably the latter. 

Haruka shifted, rocking his hips unintentionally as he tried to find the end of Makoto’s sash to untie his robe.  It felt surprisingly good, their hips pressed together; Haruka adjusted his position again, wondering if Makoto realized how badly he was trembling.

With fumbling hands, he managed to part Makoto’s robe, and with unsteady fingers, he pressed his palms to Makoto’s chest, feeling over his skin.  Not soft, but sinewy and lithe, muscle tone under bared skin.  He had seen Makoto’s nipples dozens of times when they had swum in the lakes or in the shallow edges of the ocean, but he had never touched them; Haruka slid his palms over those, too, rubbing circles and feeling Makoto twitch underneath him.   

“ _Haru_ ,” Makoto said again, and it was with even more urgency this time – but less said and more whimpered.  “Are you – are you sure this is – I mean, I just –”

“It’s fine, isn’t it.”  It wasn’t a question; rocking his hips slowly over Makoto’s and bare skin under his fingertips, Haruka had known someday they would be like this, that someday they would be tangled together, all limbs and sticky pleasure, but nerves made him excited, made his pulse race and his arousal ache.  The way their magic had been yearning for this, he was surprised it hadn’t been sooner.  Then again, he wanted to be sure it wasn’t the magic _only_ , that they weren’t doing this because they had to but because they wanted to.  “We can stop if you want.”

“It is?” Makoto breathed out, eyes fluttering open and mouth puckered as though he had something more to say.  “I…”  A beat, and then, quietly, “No, I... I want to try.”

Haruka kissed him again, slowly, trying to figure out the coordination to grind down with his hips.  Even with clothes on it felt too good; that throbbing ache was only getting worse, not better. 

Makoto met him with his tongue, shy at first but then with increasing confidence.  Hands cupped Haruka’s shoulders, sliding under the collar of his robe and then over bare skin.  Makoto’s fingers were trembling, too.  It almost made him smile against the brunet’s lips.  Almost.  It was good to know, at least, that neither of them knew what they were doing.

It was with a little more fumbling and a bit more unintentional pressing against Makoto that Haruka managed to slip his hand between them and underneath the remainder of Makoto’s clothing.  It was just exploring, but it was no less exciting; Makoto’s expression twisted again, another quiet moan escaping his mouth, and his hips twitched, bucking upward. 

“You can tell me if I do something wrong,” Haruka spoke quietly against his priest’s neck, mouthing the words there.  He was still pressed tightly against Makoto, their bare skin too warm but not sweaty, but most of his weight was to one side.   

Makoto breathed out something that sounded like _okay_ , teeth on his lip again, trying not to moan even as Haruka pressed fingertips against his thighs, just exploring skin.  He wound his hand higher, cupping between Makoto’s legs and sliding his fingers along the length of his arousal.  Their clothing was still in the way, but with the flush on Makoto’s cheeks just from that one touch, it would have to do. 

With the feeling of hot breath against his ear and Makoto’s muscles quivering against his side, Haruka felt almost emboldened; it wasn’t _that_ unfamiliar a sensation to touch someone else intimately like this.  He was slow and careful regardless, easing fingers into a gentle grip before stroking, taking care to keep one eye on Makoto’s expression for any changes. 

He kept up the motion, playing his fingers along the base and dipping them lower, satisfied with the sharp keen it produced from Makoto’s mouth and the way his hips arched.  Haruka pressed a kiss to the corner of his priest’s lips, shifting his weight again so that one of Makoto’s legs was between his own, just something to press against.  The angle was a little more awkward for stroking, and it took a bit more fumbling to get back into any kind of rhythm.  Easing the rest of Makoto’s clothes out of the way but not all the way off helped a little. 

The brunet’s eyes were still screwed shut, his head turned slightly; it was all too obvious by his expression that it felt good – perhaps too good; it took very little time for Makoto to start bucking his hips in earnest and, as hard as he tried to stay quiet, for the whimpering, keening moans to tumble from his clenched teeth. 

Haruka would have told him to relax if it wasn’t so arousing to watch; his heart was still racing, but now it was a matter of figuring out how fast to stroke and how hard to grip and where else Makoto liked to be touched.  If he had been feeling more confident, maybe even trailing his mouth from Makoto’s chest to between his legs might have done the trick.  As it was, that could wait until next time. 

“H-Haru…” Makoto could barely get out the words, his voice reduced to husky whimpers.  “P-please…”

His own stomach twisted, familiar heat pooling in his gut.  “I know,” he murmured, a simple answer. 

Then Makoto was crying out, one hand clapped over his mouth in embarrassment, as he spilled between them, and Haruka kept stroking, slowing only when his priest was finished and sagging back down against the futon.  His fingers came away sticky.  Haruka flexed them, amused by the deep flush over Makoto’s cheeks.

His own arousal was pressed taut against Makoto’s hip, and feeling Makoto move and arch and squirm beneath him had only served to make him harder; Haruka was sure that whatever happened next would not leave him wanting for long.

Their eyes met.  Makoto’s mouth was trembling, but he seemed less embarrassed and more determined now.  His priest struggled to sit up, weight on his elbows and thigh shifting against Haruka’s still-clothed cock.  It caught him by surprise how good it felt, and Haruka followed the motion with his hips, half moaning at the satisfying feeling of pressing against someone.

“Let – let me?” Makoto’s brows were pinched upward, almost pleading.  “I – can try?”

Haruka moved in to kiss him, allowing Makoto to do whatever made him most comfortable.  A hand between his legs, struggling with clothing, Makoto’s fingers cupping his length, unsure but no less effective. 

Makoto moved even slower, strokes hesitant at first.  Haruka dug his fingers into Makoto’s shoulder, burying his face in the crook of the brunet’s neck.  There was no shame in it, none at all, though he did grit his teeth against the pleasure.  It wasn’t like touching himself in the bath or in the dark of his room; the heavy weight of his priest against him and the heady rush of _someone else_ touching him was enough to coil the spring in his stomach tightly enough to burst. 

It was Makoto’s gasp of surprise that pushed him over the edge completely, and with another rush of wet heat, hips jerking and moaning quietly, it was finished.  The pleasure swept through or maybe over him, and when Makoto sprawled out next to him on their shared futon, the warmth didn’t fade.

They said nothing for a few long moments.  The air was still heavy with magic, but Haruka felt satisfied and sleepy and too comfortable to do anything more than reach for Makoto’s hand. 

“You’re glowing,” Makoto said finally, quietly, sounding as though he wanted to laugh.  A little awkward, still.  “That’s… weird.”

“Hm.”  Haruka couldn’t bring himself to think that anything was weird, really, not after that. 

“I think it’s magic.”  Makoto rolled onto his side, peering curiously at Haruka’s face. 

Haruka met his priest’s uncertain gaze with one brow raised.  “So?”

The brunet’s mouth quivered.  “I guess…”

Haruka leaned in to kiss him, cutting off whatever Makoto had been going to say next.  The other boy didn’t argue, just kissed back. 

“Sleep,” Haruka said quietly, ignoring the fact that they were both only half dressed and still a little sticky.  “Don’t talk.”

Makoto gave a quiet laugh.  He almost sounded relieved.  “Okay.”

Haruka closed his eyes, comforted by the warm weight of his priest beside him. For the first time in a long, long while, there was no magic tugging at his arms and legs and urging him closer to Makoto. After all, wasn’t this close enough?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I cannot believe I'm at chapter 18. I won't promise that the next one will be up quickly... but I'm working on it. See ya next time! <3


	19. Meander

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at this! A chapter in under six months? Is this real life?
> 
> This was one of those chapters where I didn't really have a plan (do I ever?), so hopefully there aren't any weird pacing issues in this one. And if there are... hah, whoops?

Haruka was pressed against his side, a warm and comforting weight despite the humid weather.  Makoto wasn’t sure what had woken him; it was still dark outside, and there was no noise except the gentle hum of summer insects.  He listened hard, staying as still as possible, just in case. There was no sound of footsteps, nor was there any other suspicious noise that might have served to rouse him.  After a few long moments, Makoto felt his eyes growing heavy again.      

He didn’t wake up again until Haruka shook him gently by the shoulder.  This time, when Makoto opened his eyes, there was light creeping in from the half-opened shoji.  The tatami were warm under his fingertips when he stretched. 

“Breakfast is here,” Haruka said simply before moving away.  “You should get up.”

Makoto sat up slowly.  He felt more rested than he had in ages.  Even Haruka looked a little livelier; he traipsed to the door, sliding it open and then stepping out.  There was a small garden in the shrine of simple and elegant design, and Haruka stood looking at it for a long moment with his hands clasped behind his back.  There was the sound of running water somewhere.  Makoto closed his eyes.  It was incredibly peaceful – he almost didn’t want to get up and return to their real, much more complicated lives.

He also didn’t want to spend much time thinking about how pretty the light looked over Haruka’s hair, or how when his knight looked back over his shoulder to see if he had gotten up yet, there was a little smile curling the edges of his mouth that Makoto swore made his heart skip a beat.  After the way they had spent the night, he wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to keep his thoughts from straying.  But then, that was exactly what he had been saying for the past few weeks, and things hadn’t turned out too badly, if they weren’t counting the monsters and the magical missteps. 

“Aren’t you hungry?” Haruka asked, stepping back into the room. “Everyone is probably waiting.”

That prompting was enough to get him up; Makoto picked himself up from the futon, stripping off the blankets to fold and replace them along with the cushion. “Of course,” he answered over his shoulder. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Haruka followed him, collecting the blankets that Makoto hadn’t been able to carry. There was silence between them as they worked to put everything away, but it wasn’t heavy – for once, the silence was comfortable. Easy, even. They didn’t need words between them because there wasn’t anything that needed to be said, not anything that they couldn’t communicate with subtle glances and brief touches. When they had finished clearing away the bedding, Haruka gestured to the small tray that had been left for them.

Tucked between the bowls of miso and the rice was a brief, handwritten note from Isobe. They sat together as they ate, and Makoto skimmed the note. It was a reminder of the man’s previous request to restore the shrine, and once Makoto had finished his half of the meal, he stood and bent to retrieve appropriate shoes for trekking through the garden.

“I’m going to pray,” he said, patting imaginary dust from his legs. The shrine was immaculate; he doubted there was any actual dirt around, aside from might have been tracked in by their own footsteps. “Will you call if you need anything?”

Haruka was watching with a coolly blank expression, but when their eyes met, his were interested. “Mm.”

Makoto smiled, half a mind to reach back and touch, just for the comfort of skin contact. “I’ll be right back.”

There was a stone path through the garden made up of sand-colored circles. He stepped from one to the next, careful not to disturb any of the plants. Makoto wasn’t sure if it was all in his head or not, but it felt as though some leaves reached for him and then retracted as he passed.

The heart of the shrine was beyond the garden and their sleeping quarters; he carried his shoes through the kitchen and then slipped them back on to pad out the back door. There were more plants lining the path, and it was well-beaten dirt leading to what was clearly the town shrine.

The shrine was on a slight incline, built atop what Makoto assumed was the very center of the small island they were inhabiting. He headed for it, hyperaware of the silence. There had been birdsong near their sleeping quarters and the quiet hum of summer insects although there were no sounds accompanying him as he entered the shrine except for his own footsteps and breathing. It reminded him of the Water Temple, of the deep, unyielding stillness present in its lowest level.

The biggest difference he noted, and it was one that jumped out at him immediately, was that the stillness and the silence did not _scare_ him. The steady thrum of power that seemed to echo through his chest was _comforting_ , not frightening.

Makoto took in a deep breath, tasting magic. He stood still before the altar for a long moment, staring at the delicate wave pattern lining the far wall. Then he clasped his hands and sank down, intending to fulfill their promise as best he could.

* * *

 

It had been a most unusual sensation – as though the shrine was alive, a living, sentient being, that responded to his intentions with its own rising in a graceful wave. Warmth had blossomed first in his palms and then spreading. Makoto had knelt before the altar for what felt like only minutes (but what Haruka later told him had been _hours_ ) with magic ebbing and flowing between his hands and between his body and the shrine’s structure. It felt so easy – so _effortless_. Magic responded to his whim as easily as though he had always commanded it.

This time, no apparitions appeared to counsel him (alternatively, no apparitions appeared to riddle him, either), but by the time Makoto stood on legs that had long-since fallen asleep, the shrine felt different. He wasn’t sure how to explain it, but it no longer felt dilapidated and weak. Instead, the shrine seemed to breathe with its new power. He wasn’t entirely sure what he had done – rather, _how_ he had done it – but the shrine had most certainly been restored. Hopefully now it would provide the town with adequate levels of protection.

As he turned to hobble toward the shrine’s entrance, Makoto felt a rush of cool air like a ghostly breath rustle his hair. When he looked back, the ceremonial basin that sat atop the altar had begun to bubble and overflow, though not a drop spilled from the table.

Somehow, he had accomplished exactly what he had set out to do. Makoto lingered in the doorway for a long moment, wondering how he had managed to restore the temple and how his magic had come to obey him so readily.

Haruka was waiting outside, expression serenely blank. “Have you finished?”

Makoto gave a sheepish smile. “I didn’t mean to do everything without you.”

There was no judgment in Haruka’s face or tone, only mild interest. “So you did?”

“I guess…” Makoto looked back into the shrine. Small, blue lights were flickering along the walls that had definitely not been present before. “I don’t know how, but I guess I restored it.”

The corner of Haruka’s mouth quirked up. Almost a smile. “Quit trying to be modest.”

“I’m not!” he protested. “I’m really not sure what I did.”

His knight didn’t offer anything in response, turning on heel and heading back toward their sleeping quarters. “Everyone is waiting. You’ve been in there since this morning.”

Makoto balked. “Wait. What time is it?” He squinted up at the sky, trying to figure out the time by the position of the sun but nearly running headlong into Haruka in the process.

“After lunch,” Haruka said simply. “You missed the meal.” He turned through their temporary living quarters and then toward the tori gates.

He touched his stomach gingerly, and when he withdrew his hand, the tips of his fingers were dotted with wave patterns. It was very unusual; when he hung his hands at his sides, Makoto felt as though there were water droplets falling from his fingertips.

They moved through the gardens together and then headed down the steps. Water lapped at the island’s shore. The dock connecting the island to the town creaked under their steps, but when Makoto looked back at the shrine and its compound, the tori seemed to shine as though freshly painted and the buildings appeared less aged.    

Isobe was waiting for them at the end of the dock, leaning against his staff but expression clearly pleased. “Priest,” he nodded by means of greeting. “I see you were successful. We deeply appreciate your attention to our shrine.”  Isobe sank into a half bow and then straightened.  “If you will follow me?  Your companions are gathering supplies.”

Haruka’s hand slipped into his own, just for a moment.  Makoto smiled.  It still felt like water was dripping from his fingertips, but he figured that if it had actually been the case, Haruka would have mentioned it.  Perhaps it was residual magic from his restoration of the temple.

“Of course,” Makoto responded evenly.  Maybe he was starting to get the hang of this priest thing.  “We also appreciate your hospitality!”

They started back through the town. In the midday light, there were many more people milling about, and there was ample noise, chatter amongst the townsfolk and the clatter of carts and the thump of heavy laundry being hung out to dry. Isobe brought them to the edge of a small market in the same direction as the ryokan they had left all their friends at the night before, stopping short next to a man who was turning what looked like dango on long sticks. Makoto half hoped the smell wouldn’t make his stomach growl.

Isobe squinted at the market, lifting a hand to shield his eyes.  “I asked them to meet me here…” he muttered, shaking his head.  “Although I suppose we failed to specify a time.  I’m sure they are having success – this week tends to be very busy for our market.”

Makoto peered through the bustle as well, searching for any familiar pop of color. “Oh – well, I’m sure we can find them, Isobe-san,” he said politely.  “You’ve certainly helped us enough.”

The old man lifted one shoulder in a shrug.  “Please inform your companions that they are welcome back at the inn should you require an additional stay,” he said.  “I, unfortunately, must tend to other duties.”

Fleetingly, Makoto wondered what role Isobe played in this town.  He had met them at the edge of the town’s barrier, found them lodging, and asked them to restore the shrine, all without having set foot on the island himself.  Before he could ask, Isobe had turned down the street and started back the way they had come.

“There,” Haruka said, just loud enough to be heard over the market’s noise.  “Nagisa.”

Near a merchant sitting under a white tent, vegetables and fruits spread out over a white cloth, Nagisa was gesturing at a handful of cucumbers.  Rei wasn’t too far behind, standing still next to a stall in which a man was polishing a small silver knife from a larger display.

“Oh!  I see.”  Makoto reached back for Haruka’s hand to make sure they didn’t separate in the admittedly small crowd.  “Nagisa!” he called once they were within hearing distance.  “Hello!”

Nagisa turned, a basket of what seemed to be only breads and candies (aside from the cucumbers he was currently purchasing) slung over his arm.  His face brightened immediately.  “Mako-chan!  Haru-chan!”  He took his cucumbers from the merchant and flung them into his basket.  “You’re finally back!  You know, we were kinda worried when the shrine started glowing, but I guess that’s all fine?”

Haruka’s eyes slid sideways.  Makoto gave a sheepish smile.  “It was glowing?” he repeated.  “I’m, um.  Well.  I didn’t know.”

Nagisa’s only response was a surprised laugh.  “You must’ve done something good, right?”

“Must have,” Makoto agreed, trying not to feel silly about it.  How could he not have noticed that the shrine was _glowing_?  Even if his eyes had been closed.  “Where is everyone else?”

The blond turned on heel to check if Rei was still nearby.  The other boy hadn’t moved, eyes slightly unfocused as though he was daydreaming.  “Um.  Rin-chan went to look for some twine, and some stuff for wards, I think. Ai-chan was talking to the old man for a while, so he didn’t come with us.  So I’m not sure where he is!  And Sou-chan…”  Nagisa considered for a moment.  “I think he went to pray!  So I don’t know where he is, either.”

Rei seemed to snap out of his daydream. “Oh – there you two are.”  He adjusted his glasses.  “Nagisa-kun, have you finished?”

Nagisa grinned and held out his basket. “Yup!  See?”

“Why are you wasting all of our money on candy?” Rei complained with a resigned sigh.  “I suppose it’s my fault for believing you…”

The blond puffed out his cheeks.  “I didn’t lie!  I only said I could handle buying everything, Rei-chan.”  He stuck out his tongue, even as Rei sighed again.

Makoto laughed, shaking his head.  “Well, Haru and I should probably buy a few things, too – was there any plan to leave this afternoon?”

Rei stepped in to answer before Nagisa could.  “We planned to all gather at the town gate in an hour.  Is that sufficient time?”

 He glanced up at the sun.  It didn’t seem to be too late in the day yet; they could probably cover a decent amount of ground before dusk.  They had lost almost all of their supplies to the faeries, including their map, and it would be an unfortunate few weeks if they had no idea how to return to Iwatobi and were doomed to simply wander around until they found familiar territory.

“That should be fine!” Makoto said, trying for a smile.  Thoughts of Iwatobi made his stomach twist with nervous energy.  They still needed to have a serious conversation about what, exactly, the realm of the dead was going to entail.  Makoto entertained thoughts of talking to a shaman – or a fortune teller.  Perhaps their destinies could be divined in tea leaves.  What kind of shape would the realm of the dead take in the last dregs of a teacup?

Haruka’s elbow pressed into his side.  Makoto nearly started.  “Don’t waste all our money,” His knight said in warning to Nagisa, who only smiled.  “We’ll meet you at the gate.”

Makoto offered a little wave.  “See you soon!”

It was only when they had turned into the market and taken a few steps that Makoto realized something important: If they had lost all their belongings at to the faeries, how had everyone been able to afford purchasing their supplies?  Where had everyone been keeping their money? 

“This was your payment for the shrine,” Haruka said, as though he could read thoughts, and pressed a sachet into Makoto’s palm.  “Don’t try to give it back.  The old man insisted.”

The brunet worked his mouth in an effort not to smile.  “Right.  Do you think we should try to buy more sleeping gear?  I don’t think Nagisa will.”

Haruka made a quiet noise of assent, and they started off. They headed into the market together, Haruka’s hand still loosely clasped in his own.

* * *

 

It was a little surprising to see just how many of them there were clustered at the gate, chattering about what the next step was and how they were going to find walking paths once they were out of the outskirts of the town.

Most comforting was the fact that there was light in Rin’s eyes that hadn’t been there before, and that he was holding an animated discussion with Yamazaki.  Yamazaki, too, looked livelier, although Makoto couldn’t say what “normal” was for the other boy.  Aiichirou was off to the side, fiddling with a sutra.  After a moment, he strung it up on a staff that looked similar to the one Isobe had been toting.  Nagisa was tearing pieces off of a loaf of bread, offering them to Rei and then eating them himself when the other boy refused.  It seemed an evening of rest and a proper bath had done everyone some good.

There were guards at the gate, standing off to the side and, for all intents and purposes, totally ignoring them.  Makoto supposed they didn’t seem like much of a threat.  They had made it past the barrier and the illusions into the real town, so that was saying enough.  He would admit, he _was_ a little curious how they might have dealt with the faeries when they seemed armed with nothing but regular swords at their sides, but he kept that to himself.

One of the guards did perk up when he noticed them pass.  “Oi, priest,” he called.  “You did that?”  He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to the shrine, Makoto assumed.  “Thanks.”

It felt a little weird to be thanked by a total stranger for something Makoto wasn’t even sure he’d be able to do again.  “Oh – um.  You’re welcome.”  He smiled, and the guard leaned back against the gate wall.  Or maybe he would.  Maybe, like he had considered before, he _was_ getting the hang of this priest thing.

“So,” Yamazaki broke through their idle chatter when he took notice of Haruka and Makoto.  “We’ve got a plan.  Nitori, Rin, and me – we’re headed back to the temple.”

“Rin?” Makoto parroted.  “You’re not coming with us?”

The redhead crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged.  “There’s something I need to do first.”  It was cryptic, but Rin smirked.  “Just don’t screw anything up before I can get back.” 

“Hah.” The sound was out of his mouth before he could stop it; Makoto grinned back, sheepish.  “I – we’ll try not to.”

Yamazaki rolled his head on his neck and turned to gesture.  “I’m pretty sure their territory goes beyond the edge of this forest,” he said, considering.  “Nitori showed me the map – you’re headed to Iwatobi?  Back to the Water Temple?”

Makoto nodded.  “We… There’s something we were told we could only do back home,” he said, quietly, clasping his hands.  “We need to find the entrance to the Spirit World.”

It was almost comical that Yamazaki’s face immediately twisted into a grimace.  “Oh.  Uh.  Good luck with that.”

Nagisa stood on his toes to peer out at the trees.  “But don’t worry!  Me an’ Rei-chan are still gonna come with you.  We’ll help you find the entrance, even if it –”

Rei clapped his hand over Nagisa’s mouth, disgruntled.  “If you finish that sentence with ‘ _even if it kills us_ ,’ so help me…” he grumbled.  “You’ll bring bad luck.”

The blond made a muffled protest that sounded like _no such thing_ and wiggled away.

Aiichirou offered a short laugh and a shake of his head.  “We’ll have to part ways here, I’m afraid.  Our temple and yours are in different directions.  But we’ll head to you as soon as we’re able!”

Makoto surveyed the trees in the same way that Nagisa had done, considering.  “Do you have any idea how long it’ll take to get back from here?” he asked, more to Aiichirou than anyone else.  “We bought a map, but I’m…”  Worried, he wanted to say.  “I don’t want to get lost again,” he settled on instead. 

There was a brief beat of silence while Aiichirou considered.  “I’m honestly not sure,” he admitted.  “This is the farthest I’ve been from temple grounds in… a long time.”  He seemed suddenly sheepish.  “I’m so sorry I can’t be of more help.”

He squared his shoulders and adjusted his pack.  They had filled it with enough supplies to last a week, maybe two if they rationed especially well.  “It’s fine,” he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.  “We’ll figure it out.”

Rin gave him a sharp look that was entirely unreadable.  “Don’t die,” he warned, turning to head along the east side of the lake. 

Makoto gave a wry smile and a shrug in return.  “Same to you.”

They started down the path heading northwest, away from faerie territory and away from Kurigawa.  He tried to tell himself not to look back, not to look over his shoulder, not to give in to the temptation to see how far away Rin was from the rest of them (and not because he was hurt about it, more because he was worried).  They had gotten a few minutes down the path before Makoto couldn’t take it anymore.  He looked.

He hadn’t thought they had put that much distance between them, but Rin, Aiichirou, and Yamazaki were already out of sight.  It wasn’t necessarily a bad omen, but it left a nervous pit in his stomach.  Then again, that wasn’t any different from how most of their hectic adventure had gone so far, so Makoto put it out of mind.

* * *

 

It was much quieter traveling with only Rei and Nagisa.

Haruka fell into step beside him.  They had stopped holding hands, but only because Makoto’s fingertips were starting to buzz with unusually strong energy, and it was making his skin sensitive.  His knight had coached him into maintaining a small sphere of energy between his palms while they walked, a shining circle the size of a large marble.  It was much easier than it had _ever_ been before – and for a single, glorious moment, Makoto thought, _I can do this_.

“What’s different about you, huh?” Nagisa asked after a lengthy bout of silence.  “You seem pretty relaxed for someone who’s gotta find the entrance to –”

Rei cleared his throat loudly, shooting the blond a pointed look.  Nagisa shut his mouth with a frown. 

Makoto felt his concentration slipping and redoubled his efforts to maintain his tiny water ball.  “Oh.  Um.  I’m trying not to think about it, honestly,” he said.  “And it takes a lot just to keep this,” he nodded at his hands, “so.  It’s easier.”

Nagisa locked his hands behind his back and looked up at the sky.  The sun was starting to descend, but they still had some time before it was dark.  “What’s magic feel like?”

It was an odd question – and one that threw him; he had almost forgotten that Nagisa was the only one left among them that didn’t have any magic.  Makoto had spent so many years toiling at the nonmagical school with Nagisa that it should have been obvious, but they had been too busy to talk about it.

Rei seemed to think it was an odd question, too; he furrowed his brows, adjusting his glasses and then hanging back a few steps.  “Haruka-senpai, if I might,” he mumbled.  “Do you think I might talk to you about training exercises while we travel, as well?  I don’t want to get… rusty.”  Makoto couldn’t see, but he could just imagine Rei’s shudder at the very word.

Haruka made a noise behind him that sounded like an agreement, so Makoto turned his attention back to the blond.  “Um.  I don’t know – it’s kind of hard to describe,” he said.  “Like…” Like a waterfall, maybe?  Something cool and crisp and refreshing but also crashing down on his head and shoving him under and holding him there?  “Like the ocean,” he settled on after a long pause.  “Big.  And kind of scary.  But also… like I could use it, if I knew how.”

Nagisa nodded like that made any sense (Makoto was sure it hadn’t).  “I guess I’m just curious,” he said finally.  “Since… y’know.  Everyone else seems to be able to do so much more now.”

The brunet wondered for a moment if he wasn’t the only one feeling inadequate.  “It’s not all bad,” Makoto offered.  “But it’s not all good, either.”

“Hm.”  Nagisa’s eyes slid sideways.  “But something’s still up with you.  I’m not really good at sensing, but you and Haru-chan have a thread.  Kind of like you’re connected.  Does that have something to do with what happened at the shrine?”

Makoto willed the flush away from his cheeks.  There was _no way_ any of their friends knew about what had happened.  That _could not_ be what Nagisa meant.  Still, as he focused inward, he realized that Nagisa was right – they _were_ connected, in a slight trickle of magic that flowed between them.  But that wasn’t right, either – the magic was only flowing _from_ him and _to_ Haruka.  Was that it, then?  Had they found their connection?

 A warm, balmy breeze whipped around the edge of the treeline.  Makoto took in a deep breath.  “Maybe,” he answered.  “I don’t know enough about magic to say either way.”

Thankfully, his friend didn’t press any further than that.  Makoto wasn’t sure he could handle the embarrassment if Nagisa asked him any more questions about what, exactly, had gone on at the shrine.  Instead, Nagisa peered curiously at the water marble.  “Can I touch it?”

“Uh – I guess so?” Makoto offered his hands, palms up.  The sphere was gently oscillating.  “It’d probably be good practice.”

The blond poked at the water, grinning as it went flat and then reformed.  “Cool!  Could you do anything else with it?”

Makoto narrowed his eyes in concentration, grateful for the excuse to push out all the other lingering thoughts.  “I’ll try.”  He imagined the sphere shooting off into the trees, ricocheting off of a boulder and then rocketing high into the sky.  It followed his thoughts, even if it lost some of its volume as it went and returned to his hands merely a collection of raindrops.  When had the water become so much less resistant to his manipulations?

Something rustled off in the trees, and Makoto dropped his concentration entirely in surprise.  Water splashed onto his pants, leaving dark droplets in their wake.  His hands were covered in more droplets than had been left in his sphere, and Makoto wasn’t sure where they had come from except maybe from the air. 

When nothing appeared except wild birds, taking off into the beginnings of dusk and cawing loudly, Nagisa laughed.

* * *

 

Their first night of camp was uneventful, except that Makoto wasn’t sure how close he could put his sleeping mat to Haruka’s without their friends giving them sideward glances.  They set up a small barrier for protection (and so that everyone could get a second full night of rest without having to take turns keeping watch), and then they were back up and on the road again the following morning.

Two days passed in a similar vein.  It was kind of nice to have Nagisa and Rei to talk to while they walked, and it was equally nice to have Haruka lingering by his side, still connected by a steady stream of magic.  It reminded him of the string that the faerie king had eaten – except this wasn’t painful or weird, just present.

They had gone as far north as they could bear before turning back toward Iwatobi.  Their map had taken them straight into the heart of a forest, and it was with unnaturally bright midafternoon light that they stumbled upon another town.  Nestled deep within the confines of the trees were houses built right into the trunks and high wooden bridges that swung connecting treehouses across the canopy.  Strings of bright lanterns hung between the trees – perhaps that was the cause of the bright light, even though the sun had probably already started to set beyond the forest – and there was a set of stairs carved from tree trunks about halfway up the tallest trunk.

In the center was the largest tree, its trunk so wide that Makoto wondered if it was as old as the Water Temple.  They hadn’t somehow stumbled into a Wood Temple, or something of that nature, had they?  He had never heard of such a place.  Maybe it was just a really old tree.

Rei pushed his glasses up his nose, squinting at the trees.  “I’ve heard of this technique,” he said.  “Building houses like this – but I didn’t know it was still in use.  Most places just use barriers now.”

Nagisa craned his neck to look all the way up at the tallest home.  “Wow!  D’ya think we’ll be able to find a place to stay in a…”  He paused.  “Would you call this a town?”

“Uh.”  Makoto wasn’t sure what to say about that, especially not when someone swung down from the trees and landed in front of them with a dull thump on the dry earth.  “Maybe?”

The person straightened.  It was a woman with auburn hair and blue eyes and dressed all in brown.  It had been hard to spot her moving among the tree trunks.  “Greetings!” she said with a slight wave.  “We don’t see many outsiders here.  I assume you don’t know how to get to the city?”

She didn’t have pointy ears or sharp teeth or any visible attribute that might have labeled her otherworldly.  He had been half expecting an elf – if faeries and demons and spirits were real, why not elves?  They were supposed to be a nature-loving people, according to the stories that he had read.  Makoto dropped his hands to his sides in what was hopefully a nonthreatening pose.  “My friends and I were trying to return to our hometown, and our map suggested this was the fastest route,” he replied.  “And… no.  We don’t.”

She offered a half grin and a jerk of her shoulder.  “Follow me.  Water, right?”

It wasn’t so weird that everyone they met already knew who he was.  Makoto was starting to get used to it.  “Um.  Yes, that’s right.”

The woman glanced over her shoulder and opened a door from the nearest tree with a wave of her hand.  It shimmered for a moment before disappearing entirely, revealing a winding staircase _inside_ the tree.  “Right.  Well, you’re lucky I was on patrol.  You don’t want to be on the ground when it gets dark.”

She left a moment later without a second glance, disappearing back into the trees without even having given a name.  Makoto tried to pretend that this wasn’t surprising – every other town had sentries at the gate, so was it really so strange that a tree village had someone patrolling the… leaves? 

No, he answered his own question with a slight shake of his head.  It was strange.

“Weird!” Nagisa chirped, echoing his thoughts.  “Wanna go up?”

Rei rested one hand against the tree and concentrated for a moment.  “It appears to be safe.”  He half-turned and then started.  “But – I, I apologize.  It was wrong of me to check before you, Haruka-senpai!”

Haruka offered a blank stare and walked through the doorway.  “It’s fine.  Let’s go.  I want to sleep in a real bed.”

The blond bounded after him, scaling the first few steps and then climbing higher.  “Ugh… These look like they go on forever,” he half-whined.  “Rei-chan, are you sure you won’t carry me?”

Rei hung back, expression stricken.  “Nagisa…”

“Kidding!” Nagisa sang over his shoulder, following it with a wicked grin.  “Maybe.”

* * *

 

It took almost a full hour to scale the stairs.  By the time they had reached the top, Makoto’s legs were burning, and he had lost what little energy he had managed to regain from the few nights of good sleep.  However, the breeze at the top of the stairs was cool and – and salty?  It tasted like the ocean. But there wasn’t any water nearby that he could sense, so maybe it was just something odd about being up that high.

The bridges that appeared to be wooden planks from the ground, sagging under their own weight, were actually made of petrified wood and entirely stationary.  They were also extremely wide; what looked to be a traveling merchant was pulling a cart along a bridge to their left while whistling a cheerful tune.

The woman they had met earlier was sitting at the end of a long branch, legs crossed gracefully.  “Finally made it, did ya?” she grinned.  “Figures.  It’s a rough climb for people without.” 

Without… what?  Makoto didn’t have time to ask because she pointed at the center tree.  It was no less giant from the canopy; in fact, its branches and leaves were so thick and green that it was difficult to even see the trunk. 

“You’ll want to head to the square if you’re looking for a place to stay,” she offered.  “Watch your step.”

Haruka frowned, expression surly enough that Makoto could see it in his periphery. 

“Th – thank you!” Makoto called.  He snatched up Haruka’s hand, willing his magic down to the barest trickle instead of the steady thread that had been flowing between them for the past few days.  To his surprise, his magic was quick to respond and was easily quelled down to almost nothing.  “We’ll be going now.”

The woman swung her legs and then swung down under the branch.  There were a fair number of people milling about, more than Makoto would have guessed given how far up in the trees they were.  They passed several people grouped around what appeared to be the town fountain; water bubbled from a wooden (wooden?) fixture on the side of a tree, pooling into a basin not unlike the ones Makoto had seen in other water shrines.  Two people crouched to fill canteens.

The bridge to the large center tree was the widest.  It was wide enough for all four of them to walk abreast with room to spare; Makoto raised his eyebrows at his friends. 

“It’s… kind of cool, right?” he said over his shoulder.  “I’ve never heard of a place like this before.”

He had spoken too soon – once they had crossed the bridge and made it onto the largest tree’s platform, they had to cross through a curtain of vines dotted with tiny, yellow flowers.  A light, floral scent permeated the air.  Beyond the curtain was a town square large enough to rival Iwatobi’s, all built into the tree itself and shops rising with the tree trunk even higher.  Makoto couldn’t help it – he openly gaped.

“ _Wow_!” Nagisa said loudly, but there was enough chatter and noise that his voice was easily swept up.  “This is cool!”

Rei stepped aside as someone passed, ducking down under the vines to leave the way they had come.  “It’s… unorthodox, I’ll admit,” he said.  “It seems to be very… varied.”

Makoto didn’t understand immediately what he meant until he noticed that the woman nearest them had blue skin and was eyeing them curiously.  Farther down the street – was it a street? – was a man who looked more like a dog than he did human, next to another man wearing a tunic made of fabric that shifted and twisted on his skin as though it was alive.  Even farther was a man who was so tall he stood a head and a half above the rest, accompanied by a woman wearing a feathered hat that was changing colors with her every step.

“Oh.  _Oh_.”  Rei shook his head.  “They don’t need a barrier because… they don’t need one.  I see.  I should have known.”

It was with an electric thrill that Makoto realized they were standing in the midst of a magical community.  It was the closest he had ever gotten to magical creatures that weren’t trying to kill, maim, or eat him.  It was also perhaps the best place to try to get information about the realm of the dead without raising too much suspicion. 

“I see an inn,” Haruka nodded.  He pointed at a shop off to the left.  Its sign read _onsen_.  A hot springs?  In a tree?  Now this, they had to see.  “Let’s go.  We can explore later.”

They made their way slowly down the street – Makoto wasn’t sure what else to call it; an alleyway, maybe? – and to the ryokan.  The woman manning the desk was dressed in an elaborate kimono and smoking a pipe.  She tipped her head back, blowing a smoke ring that twisted into the shape of a cat, stretched its legs, and then trotted away.

“For the night?” she asked without giving them a second glance.  “I’ve got room on the second and the sixth floors.  That’ll do?”

“Y – yes,” Makoto spoke up when it became clear that everyone else was either distracted or unwilling.  “Just one night, please.”

She gestured to the sign with their posted rates (in yen, along with posted rates in symbols Makoto didn’t recognize), and he dug out enough money to cover it.  She slid two large wooden keys back across the table.  “Bring it back if you’re going to go out,” she warned and then waved them inside.  “Pickpockets and all.”

They stepped inside, slipping their shoes off as they entered and stepped onto tatami (and this place was just getting stranger and stranger, Makoto thought).  They placed their shoes along the walls and then went to the stairs (not more stairs, Makoto thought, this time more desperately). 

“Let’s meet for dinner!” Nagisa suggested.  “I got some extra money from Chifumi-chan ‘cause I helped her clean, so we can get something tasty!”

Rei gave him an amused glance.  “What happened to all your candy?”

“That’s not dinner, Rei-chan,” Nagisa countered.  “I want _real_ food.”

The other boy offered a huffy laugh and then held a hand out for a key.  “That’s fine with me.  I’d like a rest, if you two agree.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Makoto said, half hoping he hadn’t agreed too quickly.  “Uh.  Let’s meet later.  Shall we…?”

In the side of the wall was a strange bubble, hovering a short distance off the ground.  A large frog (toad?) hopped past them, into the bubble, and used its mouth to shove its key into a slot.  A moment later, the bubble took off.  Makoto nearly gave himself whiplash trying to follow its motion as the bubble shot into the air.

At least it wasn’t more stairs. 

One insane magical transportation ride later, he and Haruka stood in front of a simple wooden door.  The room was spacious, with two futon laid side by side and a small table and a private bathroom.  The only strange thing was that there were no windows – but it was worth it to have a place to set down his pack and sprawl out.  Makoto took two steps inside, sat down on a futon, and was content to doze.

“I’ll wake you for dinner,” Haruka waved at him, sitting down at the table and spreading out their map.  “Don’t snore.  You’ll distract me.”

“Okay.”  Makoto’s cheeks colored, but he grinned back anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we go! I've got an actual plan for the next chapter, so see ya next time!


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